


A Reflection of Choice

by CubbieGirl1723



Category: Veronica Mars (Movie 2014), Veronica Mars (TV), Veronica Mars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Gen, Post-Season/Series 03, Sequel, team detecting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2019-10-06 06:15:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 42,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17340101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CubbieGirl1723/pseuds/CubbieGirl1723
Summary: During her sophomore year at Hearst, Veronica struggles with the ramifications of her previous choices and their effects on her relationships. Can she fix her past mistakes? Can she move forward?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story continues in the same universe as “See Appendix for Further Information.” 
> 
> The title comes from a quote. “Life is a reflection of a choice you made. If you want a different result, start making different choices.”

Veronica sits at the kitchen table, sipping her coffee and reading the morning edition of the Neptune Register as she waits for her toast to pop. 

“Balboa County Gun Used in Orange County Shooting” screams the front-page headline. She scans the article, rolling her eyes at the question of how a gun that was supposedly destroyed after a Balboa County gun buyback collection last month could have been used in a shooting yesterday in Anaheim. 

“This guy obviously doesn’t know Vinnie Van Lowe,” she mutters, tossing down the newspaper in disgust. 

The toaster pops as Keith calls down the hall. “Veronica? Is that you?” 

“Were you expecting someone else?” Abandoning her chair, she crosses the room to retrieve her toast. One slice is the color of charcoal while the other isn’t even warm. She tosses both in the trash and takes down a box of brown sugar cinnamon Pop-Tarts - no need to toast these.

Keith steps into the combined living room-kitchen space, tucking his dress shirt into his slacks. His tie—a particularly ugly green and brown striped one that Veronica gave to him for Father's Day when she was seven—is hanging around his neck. “I’m surprised to see you, is all.” He fastens the buttons on his blue shirt. “I didn’t hear you come in last night.” 

She stares at her cold, unappetizing Pop-Tarts to avoid his disapproving stare. “I didn’t want to wake you. It was late.”

Which is true. Or early, depending. She spent most of the night at Logan’s house and really only stopped by this morning to grab fresh clothes. She lets her mind wander to Logan and all the delightful ways he kept her up last night. Mmm. She didn’t mean to fall asleep at his place, but she was so comfortable, and after three orgasms, it wasn’t surprising that she couldn’t make it out of his bed. But it’s best if her dad doesn’t suspect that. 

“Must have been.” He pours coffee into a mug and takes a fortifying sip. “Make sure you’re home for dinner tonight. There’s something I want to talk to you about.”

“No can do, baby doll.” She gives him her best ‘wise-guy gangster’ voice and clicks her tongue. “I have the late shift at the library.” 

She shrugs, unrepentant, when he starts to protest. 

“Hey, you were the one who told me to get a ‘normal’ job. I don’t mind the library but college students study all hours of the day. Especially after midnight. I can’t afford to turn down shifts just because you don’t like the hours.”

 

*****Two Months Ago*****

“No more working for me, Veronica. I mean it!” Keith’s voice is firm. 

She’s just telling him about her class schedule for the fall semester and makes sure to let him know she will have plenty of time to help out in his office. It’s her first night back at home after spending three weeks staying with Logan while she recovered from appendicitis and they're having mandated Daddy-Daughter time. He pauses the movie they’re watching so she knows this must be important—though he’s picked ‘Major League 3,’ so she almost relishes a dad lecture to stop the agony. 

“Dad! I single-handedly ran Mars Investigations while you were sheriff and—”

He cuts her off sharply. “And how did that go, Veronica?” 

Veronica visibly recoils, hurt that he would throw her past mistakes in her face. 

He takes a deep breath, visibly trying to calm down.

“Look. It’s fine that you got your P.I. license but you won’t need that with the FBI. Focus more on that and your classes this year. See if you can work at the library again. But not with me anymore.”

“But, Dad…” She really hasn't had much of a chance to tell him about her summer internship yet; it all ended so suddenly when her appendix burst and he brought her home. Then she was focused on recovery and the start of the semester and he was rushing back to work. 

She realizes there are a lot of things they haven’t had a chance to talk about lately—including her relationship with Logan. 

Logan had flown out to Virginia when he thought she was injured and insisted she stay with him to recover from her appendectomy. He’d bought a house, stopped making self-destructive decisions, and basically grown into a man that she wanted to be with. They’re working on building trust and communicating—but she hasn’t really clued in her dad yet to these new developments. 

She tries to focus on what her dad is saying, though, and decides to save the Logan conversation for a later date.

She takes a deep breath, bracing for his disappointment. “I’m not really sure the FBI is what I want, Dad.” 

His face falls momentarily, but then Veronica is shocked when he breaks into a huge smile. 

“Leave the investigating behind, huh? You know I’d love it if you picked something safe and respectable. I mean, the FBI is great, don’t get me wrong, but the idea of you chasing bad guys, well, it doesn’t exactly help me sleep at night.” His eyes practically twinkle with joy at the thought of a career change. “I’ve always thought you’d make a great lawyer. Your criminology classes would probably still be an asset but you could switch to a pre-law major, maybe psychology? And then Stanford or an Ivy League for law school.”

She tries to school her features and look like she’s giving it some thought. “That’s an interesting idea, but—”

“Great, honey.” Before she can explain further, his phone buzzes. He answers quickly. 

“Oh, yeah, sure. I’m on it, no problem.” 

He hangs up and turns to Veronica. 

“I’m glad we had a chance to spend time together tonight, Veronica, but I’ve got to run to the office. I’ll see you tomorrow for your first day of class.” 

Keith jumps up off the couch and grabs his sport coat and briefcase. 

She rolls her eyes. “I’m in college, Dad, not first grade.”

“First days still feel the same to me, no matter how old you are.” He places a quick kiss on the top of her head and heads out the door. 

Veronica sighs. That’s the problem. He’s still treating her like she’s seven instead of an adult. And now she has to find another ‘normal’ job to please her dad. 

******

“Veronica! Hey! Earth to Mars!” Her dad’s voice pulls her back to the present as he tosses his tie over his shoulder, concentrating on making a perfect Windsor knot. 

She makes a face at him, wrinkling her nose in distaste. “That joke is never funny.”

“Pretty sure it is.” He grins at her before his voice turns firm. “We need to talk soon.” 

“I’ll have my people call your people and pencil you in.” 

Veronica’s tone is breezy, almost flippant, as she moves across the kitchen and shrugs on her blue jean jacket over her grey fitted Hearst t-shirt. She grabs a napkin from the counter and wraps up her Pop-Tarts to eat in the car, resolving to make time for a healthier choice, like eggs, tomorrow. At the door she bends down to slip on her black Converse sneakers, then grabs her black leather messenger bag and car keys off the wall hook and opens the front door. 

“Veronica, wait.” She pauses and turns back to look at her dad, expectant. 

“I'm seeing someone.” He’s standing awkwardly in the living room, like can’t figure out what to do with his hands. 

She gulps, dropping her bag and shutting the door. She leans her back against it and feels the cool painted steel beneath her fingertips. 

Keith continues. “That’s what I need to talk to you about. I was going to tell you later, over dinner, but—”

She cuts him off. “Who?”

“Harmony.” 

“Harmony? Harmony Chase?” Veronica manages to keep her eye-roll in check but not without effort. 

Her dad is still talking. “She's divorced her husband and...I really like her, Veronica. I think you would, too, if you gave her a chance.” She can tell he’s still nervous because he keeps reflexively smoothing down his tie. 

“When?” At his blank look, she clarifies. “I mean, when did you start seeing her again? Or did you ever stop?”

Anger flashes in Keith’s eyes but he visibly restrains himself from taking the bait with a deep breath. 

“I ran into her this summer at the grocery store, of all places.” His voice is light, like this is a funny anecdote. “You were gone and…”

Great. Now she feels guilty for leaving him. 

“Anyway, this spring was a little rough but it was nice to have a friend.”

She can't keep from cringing at that one. Her dad notices and she forces a smile onto her face. If he's been seeing Harmony since this summer, Veronica wonders why she's just now hearing about it. 

“She's become very important to me, Veronica, and I'd really like for you to spend some time with her, get to know her better.” His eyes plead with her and she can tell that this means a lot to him. 

Veronica sighs. “Yeah, okay. I'm pretty busy this semester but I'll try.” She knows it's a weak response but it's all she can muster. 

“I know you have Thursdays off at the library. Plan on having dinner with us this week.” 

“Oooh, Thursday is not great for me.” She gives him what she hopes is a believable grimace. “I have a test—”

Keith cuts her off. “That’s why I’m letting you know about it now. You have time to plan. You’re having dinner with Harmony and I on Thursday night. No excuses.”

Her lack of success at the brush-off attempt and his heavy-handed tone send her anger level from ‘mildly irritated’ to ‘rage’ in seconds, but she takes a deep breath and holds it in. 

“Fine.” Her words are clipped. “I’ll invite Logan and we’ll make a double date out of it.”

“That’s not really what—”

Before her dad can finish his protest, the door cuts off his words as Veronica shoulders her bag and flees.


	2. Chapter 2

“Thanks again for braving the dreaded parent dinner with me.” 

Veronica doesn’t meet his eyes but instead stares down at their hands clasped together over the gearshift in Logan’s car, absently stroking her thumb back and forth over his knuckles. She fiddles with the buttons on her jean jacket and leans down to rub a scuff out of the toe of her right Converse sneaker with her free hand.

He puts the car into park in front of her apartment, dropping her hand, and with a shrug, tugs on her ponytail playfully. 

“It’s really not a huge deal.” He moves his hand from her hair to caress her neck sensually. “Plus I intend on taking advantage of your gratitude later tonight. Many times.” 

He bobs his eyebrows suggestively at her and Veronica giggles, trying not to think about how good he looks in his fitted khakis and maroon Henley. Her dad will surely be able to sense if she is having naughty fantasies about Logan during dinner. 

She clears her throat. “I think you’re going to be highly disappointed with your late night plans. Because mine, mandated by my father, include staying here and watching Conan.” She gives him a wry smile. “Gratitude will have to be paid out later in the form of a rain check.” 

“I guess it’s a good thing I’m interested in more than that, then.” Logan quickly kisses her forehead and exits the car, not giving her time to deflect his intimacy with a quip. 

Veronica follows him out of the car and grabs his hand, steeling herself for the evening ahead.

Harmony is already there when Veronica and Logan enter, draped across the couch and dressed--too casually, Veronica feels-- in jeans and a tight t-shirt. Is she trying to look younger than she really is? Is she trying to hit that ‘cool friend’ vibe with the college kids? Ugh. What does her dad see in this woman? 

It’s tricky to cram four people around the island table in the Mars’ kitchen and the forced intimacy makes her fidgety. She tries to keep her distaste from showing on her face and aggressively slices her steak. 

She knows she should make an effort with Harmony, but Veronica can't figure out what to say or how to be happy about this relationship for her dad. She knows her tension shows in her interactions; she just can't seem to hide it. 

“So, Veronica, what classes are you taking?” Harmony asks, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

As far as opening lines go, it's a little boring but Veronica is a college student, it’s a standard question and she should be used to it. She suppresses an eye roll but does allow herself a small sigh. 

“Um, childhood psych, criminology, law enforcement, philosophy, and English lit.”

Keith frowns at her, probably because of her bored and disrespectful tone, and loosens his tie. She feels Logan’s knee bump her own under the cramped island table and his support bolsters her. 

Harmony asks the inevitable follow-up question: “What's your major?” 

“Double major in psych and criminal justice. For now.”

Keith raises his eyebrow at that. “For now? Are you thinking about dropping the criminology background? You don’t need it for pre-law.”

Her dad has continued to push law school on her over the past few weeks. Maybe he has a point about the potential career path although she just can’t get excited about the idea. She’s trying to keep an open mind for his sake. A double major is her compromise. So far it seems like she can make it work. 

“Pre-law?” Logan turns to her, questioning, waving his fork laden with green beans. “I wasn’t aware that was why you chose psych as your major.”

“Yeah, I—”

“Your dad tells me you spent the summer interning with the FBI,” Harmony quickly interjects. “What was that like?” 

That’s a loaded question, Veronica thinks, although she forces herself to admit that Harmony couldn't have known that. 

She blows out a breath and puts a strained smile on her face. “It was great.” 

Lying is easier than trying to explain the truth to a complete stranger. 

Harmony nods and takes another bite of steak before turning to Logan. 

“And what’s your major?” she asks. 

He takes a sip of water and Veronica grabs his hand under the table and entwines their fingers, resting them on his knee. “Literature. I just changed it from business.”

Keith snorts and stabs a green bean on his plate. “There’s a practical choice.”

Veronica can feel herself flush with anger, but Logan, miraculously, keeps his cool. 

“Yeah, I really like it, but I’m wondering if I should double-major or add a minor in journalism.”

“So you do plan on working, Logan, and not just living off your trust fund?” Keith’s voice is dripping with condescension. 

“Dad!” Veronica can’t help but interject. “I don’t think—”

Logan stares at his plate and squeezes her fingers but doesn’t meet her eyes as he softly interrupts her. “That’s a fair question, Veronica. I don’t have a job right now but yeah, I do plan on having a career.”

Things were going well between her dad and Logan this summer...before Veronica told him they were dating again. Now the tension between them is thick enough that it makes her stomach cramp. 

“I remember when I was in college,” Harmony says fondly, taking the heat off Logan. Veronica doubts she’s doing it purposefully, but in this moment Veronica is actually thankful for the other woman’s presence. “I got as far away from home as possible, though. I grew up on the east coast,” Harmony elaborates, “but came to school in California. I loved it here and decided to stay.”

She has a wistful look on her face and doesn't seem to realize that she just segued into another touchy subject. 

“Oh?” Veronica asks and glares at her dad pointedly. “And how did that go over with your family?” 

She finally notices the tension between father and daughter and hastily backpedals, the wistful look replaced with a touch of panic at her blunder.

“It really strained things with my parents. I'm not sure the relationship ever recovered. It's so nice that you live at home with your dad.” 

Harmony puts her hand lightly on top of Veronica's, but Veronica quickly slides hers away and grabs her water glass. “It’s a good way to save money.”

Keith grabs his chest as if wounded. “Yes, but what about my scintillating company? And the home cooked meals?” 

He gestures expansively at the food on the island table in front of them and Veronica gives him a small, genuine smile. She missed her dad fiercely over the summer, and there are things that she likes about living at home. She just needs to remind herself of them more often. 

“Backup’s nice, too,” she teases him. “But next year, Pops, I'm outta here.” She jerks her thumb at the door. What she hasn't told her dad yet is that Logan has asked her to move into his beach house with him. 

*****Two Months Ago*****

“You don’t have to go, you know.” 

Logan wanders into the guest bedroom, where Veronica is packing. Although she’s spent almost every night in Logan’s bed for the last three weeks, her suitcase has stayed in here for appearance’s sake. 

She looks up, startled. “Logan, school starts on Monday.”

“I know, but you could, like, stay here. With me.” He looks down at the bed and fiddles with a loose thread on the duvet. 

She sinks down onto the mattress and grabs his hand, pulling him down next to her. “Do you mean—are you asking me—?”

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “Yeah. You could move in with me. If you wanted. I know it’s fast but—” His voice drops. “But I’m sure.”

He breaks off, looking up at her from under his lashes and he’s so hesitant it breaks her heart. She knows her lack of trust in him is what caused that look of insecurity, but instead of her normal desire to flee, all she wants to do is reassure him. They haven’t been dating for long this time around, but after everything that has happened, she knows Logan is what she wants. 

“Logan, I’d love that.” She gives him a glowing smile before it fades off her face. “But my dad would freak. I’m not sure I’m ready to alienate him like that. He thought I should have been back at home two weeks ago.”

All the light goes out of his eyes. 

“Oh.” He clears his throat. “No, that’s fine. I forget what’s it’s like sometimes, having parents.” 

He gives a weak smile, trying to joke, but it falls flat. Veronica quickly stands and pulls his head down to hers, giving him a deep kiss. 

“If things were different…” she trails off, then squares her shoulders. “Next year I’ll be 21. I’m not planning on living at home at that point. So if the offer still stands…” 

Her mouth quirks up in a half-smile, full of promise and hope for their future together. 

Logan stands, grabbing her around the waist and spinning her around, giggling. “Okay. So this time next year, wanna be my new roommate?”

Breathless, Veronica nods and kisses him again. 

***********

“Daydreaming again, Veronica?” Keith chides her. “A lot could change by next year.”

“Actually—” Logan begins, but Veronica stomps on his foot before he can reveal their plans and he winces. 

“Oh, sorry, Logan.” 

She gets up from the table and, behind her dad’s back, draws her finger menacingly across her throat. “This table’s a little tight. Can I get dessert out?”

“Of course.” He waves in the direction of the freezer. “You know where it is.”

“Harmony, what kind of ice cream can I get you? We have moose tracks, mint chocolate, rocky road--”

Harmony cuts her off. “Oh, no thanks. I don't really like ice cream.”

Veronica sputters, mouth hanging open, and she can tell that Logan is trying not to laugh at her. 

“No ice cream?” she mouths at him. He just rolls his eyes at her. 

Thankfully she schools her features into a mask of pleasant indifference by the time her dad notices their antics. At his sharp look, she widens her eyes innocently and retrieves three bowls and spoons. Less ice cream for Harmony means more for her, she supposes. 

Veronica suggests a movie after dinner but Harmony wants to play a game. She can’t help but roll her eyes at her dad’s newfound enthusiasm for Monopoly, which is literally the only dusty board game they can find in the hall closet. She suspects the previous tenants left it there. Harmony’s too-loud laugh and little excuses to touch Keith are giving her a tension headache. 

She can’t decide if his love of the game stems from a desire to impress Harmony or if it’s because he’s winning, but either way, he’s insufferable, gloating and trash-talking everyone else. Well, except Harmony. He’s going easy on her. 

After Keith gleefully bankrupts Logan with quips about trust fund mismanagement, Veronica throws down her paper money and a deed to the Reading Railroad and hops up from the table. 

“Well, this has been fun but it’s later than I realized.” She pastes a fake, brittle smile on her face as she grabs Logan’s hand and pulls him up. “We should be going.”

“Veronica, what are you talking about?” Keith asks. “You can’t go anywhere now, it’s 11 at night.”

“College student hours, Dad.” She waves away his concern, sure he can tell from her clipped words that she’s upset, but she doesn’t care enough to hide it. “I’ve still got some studying to fit in tonight. Test tomorrow, remember?”

“But where—?”

“Just the library, Dad. Don’t wait up.” She cuts him off with a sigh and drags Logan out the front door. 

——

“Oh my god, that was horrible!” Veronica paces around Logan’s living room. 

They’d come straight back to his place, the library just an excuse to ditch her dad.

Logan leans against the kitchen bar, his hands shoved into his pockets, watching her wear a path between his leather sectional and the wall of windows. 

“I’m not imagining it. She’s really awful. Right?”

“The worst.” He crosses over to her and places a gentle kiss on the top of her head. 

With a deep breath, Veronica decides it’s time for a mental distraction and grabs her laptop and one of her criminology texts out of her bag and settles down on the couch. Logan ambles off to the kitchen and returns with a can of Skist. She takes it gratefully as he leans forward over the back of the couch and kisses the top of her head. 

“Whatcha doing, Bobcat?” He reads over her shoulder. “What are gun buyback programs?”

“We had one in Neptune not too long ago. The sheriff’s department collects guns in exchange for cash, no questions asked. They’re supposed to be destroyed. Like, the buybacks help cut down on violent crime, maybe, but that’s mostly a theory. There's not a lot of hard evidence to prove that. At least not in the US.”

Logan merely nods and nuzzles the back of her neck. 

“I know investigating weird crap makes you feel better.” His lips trail down the side of her neck and she inhales sharply at the pleasure that surges through her. “But I have some other ideas about how you could release all this pent up tension.”

Veronica stares longingly at her laptop screen, debating. Logan’s kisses send a bolt of desire through her as he continues to nibble on the sensitive skin of her neck. 

She closes her laptop with a snap and gives him a small smile. “Tell me more.”

——

“Mmm. That was incredible.” Veronica lies boneless, sprawled on top of Logan. 

He kisses her bare shoulder and settles her more comfortably on top of his chest. “Stay here tonight. You know you want to.”

“I do, but—”

“Call your dad, tell him I’m dropping you off at Mac’s again so you can study more. Please?” His fingers lightly stroke up and down her spine. It’s the ‘please’ she can’t resist, though. 

“Yeah, okay.” She pulls the top sheet with her as she climbs out of bed and digs for her phone in her bag on the floor nearby. The slow smile that spreads across Logan’s face makes lying to her dad worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Heavenli24 for her awesome beta help! My plan is to post a chapter a week so there should be another update next Monday or Tuesday :)


	3. Chapter 3

Veronica lets herself into the apartment the next morning and stops short when she sees her father sitting on the couch in the living room, glaring at her. She smooths down her hair self-consciously. 

“Oh! Morning, Dad.” She starts to breeze past him, but the anger in his tone when he speaks makes her freeze. 

“I’m surprised to see you this morning. Since Logan dropped you off on campus at Mac’s and all, I assumed you wouldn’t come home before class.” His words drip with sarcasm but she pretends not to notice and continues to down the hallway toward her bedroom. 

“Figured I’d run home and grab some clothes,” she hollers, head buried in her dresser drawers.

“So you were at Mac’s last night, right?” he yells after her. 

She heaves a giant sigh and heads back to the living room to find her father standing in the middle of it, scowling at her. His sports coat lies crumpled on the couch and he’s found another particularly hideous tie to wear today--a wide one with brown and gold diagonal stripes. 

“Where were you last night, Veronica?” 

“Dad, I’m in college—”

“Answer the question!” he barks. 

She tries not to sound sullen but it’s a struggle. She crosses her arms and meets his eyes defiantly. “At Logan’s.” 

“Veronica, I have some concerns about your relationship with Logan.”

She frowns. “What kind of concerns?”

“He’s just...you’re just...you are too young to be so serious,” Keith hedges. “And this sneaking around.” He waves his hand up and down to encompass the situation. “He’s a bad influence on you.”

Veronica takes a deep breath. “I’m not breaking up with Logan. He’s good for me; we’re good for each other. I know you don’t want to see it, but he’s changed, Dad, and I wish you’d give him a chance to show—”

He cuts her off. “Every time I do, you break my trust. Lying about where you were last night, for example.”  
“Look. How about, if you can try to be nicer to Logan, I will promise to make effort to be honest about where I am,” she says rationally, pressing her lips together. “Is that better?”

“No, it’s not. We’re not negotiating. I’m your father, not your roommate, and I expect you to sleep at home every night from now on, Veronica. Let’s not even get on the subject of how you treated Harmony last night!” His voice rises in frustration and his eyes flash with anger.

“Dad! Are you serious?” She knows it’s immature to yell, but how dare he? “Are you going to give me a 10 o’clock curfew, too?”

“I hope that won’t be necessary,” he spits out. 

Veronica huffs and digs her fingernails into her arm while Keith takes a deep breath, visibly trying to reign in his temper. 

“Look. I just want you to be careful and make good choices.” He holds out his hands in front of him, placating. “Maybe we both got used to having our own space while you were gone this summer and adjusting back...well, it can be tricky. Let’s try to cut each other some slack. No more sleepovers but no curfew. Dinner together when possible. We’ll both check in each day.” He pulls her to him and wraps her in a hug. “You and I are it, kid. We’re all we’ve got and I’m not giving you up.”

Veronica relaxes into her father’s embrace. She refuses to live without Logan anymore but she hates to disappoint her dad. Her voice is muffled by his chest, as she says, “Yeah, okay.” 

She knows she can’t keep living with the two most important people in her life at cross purposes but she doesn’t know what else to do. 

——

“Well, can I come sit in your parlor and court you? Maybe take you for a chaperoned buggy ride?” Logan uses his southern drawl voice to joke with her later over the phone but Veronica can’t tell if he’s just laughing it off or it actually bothers him when she tells him about her fight with Keith. 

“I do declare,” she drawls back. “You’re a perfect gentleman.”

“Always, Mars.”

She stares at the ceiling above her bed and she wonders how many phone conversations she’s had with Logan over the years while tracing the outline of the crack that looks like the Mississippi River with her eyes. She wonders what it would be like to move in with Logan, to navigate living with him and spend the majority of her free time with him, what it would be like to stare at a different ceiling before bed and have this one be a distant memory. Is she even ready for that? She was away from home for the first time this past summer but what if it becomes a permanent state? It’s hard to imagine. She had missed her dad fiercely while she was in Virginia but she had loved the independence, coming and going when she pleased and answering to no one. And it’s not like moving across Neptune would be the same as moving across the country. They could still have daddy-daughter dates, she reasoned, and make time together a priority. Maybe a little space would help fix things between them. 

“I’m sorry, Logan, for dragging you in the middle of all this crap with my dad.”

“It’s okay, Bobcat. I was being serious, kind of, about your parlor.” Veronica rolls over onto her side, cradling the phone between her ear and her shoulder, and props her head up with her hand. “I can come over to your place more, you know. We don’t always have to hang out at mine. I mean, I love having you here and the privacy is nice, don’t get me wrong,” his voice drops seductively, “but I don’t want you to think that’s the only reason I’m with you.”

“Um…” She doesn’t know how to tell him it will probably make interactions worse between her and her father if Logan spends more time at their apartment. She’d definitely prefer to keep the men in her life in separate spheres. “I don’t know. It’s just, my dad and Harmony are here a lot…”

“I know how important he is to you, Veronica. With just one parent between the two of us, hopefully we can figure out how to get him on our good side.”

Veronica snorts. “I’m not sure that’s possible.”

“I thought your dad liked me.” A touch of insecurity creeps into Logan’s voice. “I thought we were doing well this summer.”

“Yeah, I think you were until he figured out we were dating again.” 

“Ah. I’m going to try not to be insulted by that.” Veronica’s surprised to hear bitterness in his tone instead of his usual humor.

“What are you doing?” She changes the subject, not wanting to admit to him that her dad had practically suggested she break up with him. 

“Talking to you, pumpkin.” 

At least the bitterness disappears at the use of the horrible pet name. 

She sighs exaggeratedly and rolls her eyes even though he can’t see her. “I know that. I mean, what are you doing around your house? Where are you sitting? I want to picture it.”

“Want to know what I’m wearing, too?” She can hear his leer through the phone and she chuckles.

“Sure, cuddle bear.” She gives him her best sex kitten voice. 

The retching sounds he makes in response to her choice of pet name are oddly gratifying. 

“Veto on the ‘cuddle bear.’” She can hear the disdain in his tone and smiles, glad they are on the same page on that. His voice fills with warmth again as he relents, “I’m sitting on my deck, watching the waves. What about you?”

“On my bed. Like always.”

Maybe it has something to do with owning a house, having his own space for the first time, or maybe it’s that he decided to stop spiraling out of control, but Logan sounds content. Lately he’s been relaxed in a way she’s never seen before. His demons are still there, she knows this, lurking below the surface, but he battles them back and fights to stay in control now instead of letting them win. She almost expected him to become clingy once he was living alone but he’s settled in well and while certainly not tame, he’s been holding himself in check and is starting to thrive. 

“Oooh, what are you doing in bed?” Logan asks, lowering his voice suggestively. “No, wait, let me guess: your hands are under the covers, sliding down over your body at the thought of me…’

“Mmmm. I’m just about…” She drops the breathless, sexy voice. “To go to sleep. Nice try. ‘Night, Logan.”

“‘Night, Veronica.” She can hear his smile through the phone. 

——

Between classes and work, Veronica ignores the tension at home for the next few days. She still spends time at Logan's but always manages to let Keith see her arrive home each night. 

Sunday night she enters their apartment to find Keith and Harmony cuddled up on the couch, watching a movie, Backup at their feet. Their fascination with noir films must still be going strong because this time it’s Double Indemnity. Ugh, is Harmony living out some femme fatale private eye fantasy by dating her dad? Yuck. Not without a small sense of pride, Veronica manages to keep her expression blank at the sight. As she heads to her bedroom to hide from the PDA, her father calls out to her.

“Veronica! I wanted to let you know that Harmony will be joining us for Thanksgiving in a few weeks.” 

He sounds so pleased and utterly smitten with Harmony. Veronica clenches her jaw as she feels her anger simmer beneath the surface. She’s not opposed to the idea of her dad dating someone--she just hates that it’s Harmony. 

Keith pats Harmony’s arm fondly as they gaze at each other and this time nothing can contain Veronica’s eye roll. Not like they notice, as wrapped up in each other as they are. Neither she nor her father have ever invited anyone else to spend a holiday with them before. Thanksgiving has never been as important as Christmas, though, so maybe it's time to branch out a bit. For both of them. 

“That's great.” Keith shoots her a look that tells her he knows her bright eyes and wide smile are fake, but Harmony is totally oblivious to it. “I'll invite Logan, then, too.”

Maybe it’s a bad idea to let her father spend time with Logan, but if she has to endure Thanksgiving with Harmony, she’ll need some reinforcements. 

The smug grin she gives him is real because he can't argue, and she thinks ‘Point for Veronica,’ then wonders when they started keeping score.

His eyes narrow at her but he pastes on a smile as he tosses out a casual, “Great.” 

Beside him, Harmony just smiles widely, completely fooled by their act.

“I’m just gonna do homework.” Veronica jerks her thumb in the direction of her bedroom and heads down the hallway to hide out for the rest of the evening. 

She settles in for a night of studying but not even her second-level criminology class can keep her interest. Twenty minutes in, her textbook lies abandoned on the bed and she’s focused on her laptop screen instead, researching the Balboa County gun buyback program again. 

Citizens were given $200 for every donated gun, no questions asked, and the program was funded by an anonymous donor. She hasn’t had any luck tracing the donor yet—which is suspicious because everyone she can think of in Neptune who’s rich enough would want the credit for it—but the staunchest supporter, quoted in every article, is Sheriff Van Lowe.

Maybe it’s worth tracking Vinnie for a few days to see what he’s up to. It would be great if she could get into the sheriff’s department and poke around but she’s pretty sure all those bridges have been sufficiently burned. 

At the sound of giggles from the living room, Veronica rolls her eyes in disgust. She needs to get out of here for a while. She jumps up, pacing around her room as she decides it couldn’t hurt to start following Vinnie now. Coming up with a plan, she sends a quick text to Logan, grabs her bag, and leaves the room. She doesn't make eye contact, doesn't even look at the couple cuddled up on the couch as she makes a beeline for the front door. 

“Dad, hey, the library just called. They need someone to work tonight, last minute, so I’m gonna head back to campus. See you in the morning.” She speaks quickly and keeps her voice steady, hoping he can’t hear the lie. 

She feels bad lying to him, especially since she promised that she to be honest with him, but that was more about Logan than anything else and she’ll make sure she sleeps at home tonight. It’s not a big deal, she tells herself, as she closes the door against Keith’s protests.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to Heavenli24 for her awesome beta help! She is amazing :) Any mistakes left are all mine.


	4. Chapter 4

“So why are you tailing the Sheriff, exactly?” Logan asks conversationally as they sit in Veronica’s Saturn across the street from Vinnie Van Lowe’s house. He stretches, straightening his legs and arching his back, causing the hem of his tight black t-shirt to ride up and expose his abs. Veronica has to force herself to focus on anything else.

“I’m not sure.” She thinks about food, instead, and hands him an open bag of Twizzlers and watches, bemused, as he rifles through before selecting one and biting into it. “Just following a hunch.” 

Veronica turns her attention back to the house. Before he became sheriff, Vinnie lived in a cheap apartment in the 02 neighborhood but after the election, he upgraded to a sprawling ranch in the 09 district. It isn’t too many blocks over from where Veronica grew up in the 05 zip and the irony isn’t lost on her. 

The lights are on inside and she can see Vinnie’s shadow moving around what she assumes is his living room. After a couple of minutes, the lights go out and then the garage door opens. Vinnie pulls out in his new black Dodge Charger, another in a long list of extravagant purchases made after his rise to respectability via public service. While Veronica hasn’t accessed his bank records—yet—his house and car purchase, plus new boat and a club membership, are all matters of public records. 

“Well, let’s see where he’s going,” Veronica mutters as she puts her car into drive and carefully follows three car lengths behind. 

She’s expecting the Seventh Veil and hoping for something as obvious as the River Stix, but Vinnie drives across Neptune to the 02 district and parks along a rundown residential street, not far from the Camelot.

“What are you up to, Vinnie?” Veronica makes sure to park along the opposite side of the street behind a large, rusty truck. 

“Is he tailing someone, too?” Logan’s can of Pepsi hisses as he pops the top open. He takes a sip. 

“It kinda looks like it. I wish I knew which house.” 

He hands her a can of Skist from the bag of snacks they grabbed and she opens it, giving him a grateful smile and a wink of thanks. Logan, despite his boundless energy and fidgety nature, is an excellent stakeout partner. He’s content to sit next to her and read or do homework and only occasionally tries to distract her with make out sessions. He also brings excellent provisions. 

A screen door bangs shut down the road and they watch a man exit the house, spinning his keys on his finger. He gets into a beat up Thunderbird parked on the street and drives away. Vinnie waits a beat, then pulls out as well. 

“Curious.” Logan quickly buckles his seatbelt as Veronica puts the car into gear and follows her marks. 

“Can you write down that address for me?” She looks back over her shoulder at the small house. 

Logan taps the side of his temple. “Got it, Muffin.”

“Muffin?” she echoes, glancing at him. 

“Like it?” 

“No.”

The Thunderbird pulls into the driveway of a modest ranch in a cookie-cutter neighborhood filled with prefabricated homes and Vinnie pulls to a stop three houses down. The Thunderbird honks and seconds later, a girl dressed in a mini skirt bounces out of the house and hops into the car. They speed off and Vinnie follows. 

“Can you remember this address, too, Pumpkin?” Veronica asks. 

“Of course.” Logan gives her a sarcastic smile. “But you can only call me Pumpkin if I can call you Muffin.” 

“Negatory. No more food-related names, anyway. It makes me hungry.” Veronica pointedly eyes the snacks at his feet until Logan sighs, put-upon, and opens a bag of Cheetos for her. 

“Speaking of food…” He trails off as both the cars they’re following pull into the parking lot of Luigi’s, Veronica’s favorite Italian restaurant. “Looks like you guys have similar tastes.”

The couple exit the Thunderbird and Veronica gets a better look at them. They’re both young, younger than she expected, maybe even in high school. Their fingers are interlocked and they gaze at each other adoringly as they walk in the restaurant, swinging their arms a bit in obvious excitement. So definitely a date, then, Veronica decides, grabbing her camera and snapping a quick picture of the car’s license plate. 

“I don’t want to give anything away to Vinnie, but we could go in, if you want?” Logan offers. “It could just be a random coincidence that we are here on a date, too?”

She should probably stay no; fly under the radar and stay in the car where Vinnie can’t see her. But Logan is right, they go here often enough that it won’t necessarily set off alarm bells. It’s a casual place so her jeans and t-shirt won’t stand out. She’s convinced she can smell the breadsticks from the parking lot and Cheetos just don’t compare. What do they have to lose, really?

Her stomach growls in answer, and she nods. “Let’s go.”

——

Since Veronica is a regular at Luigi’s, all it takes is a quick whisper in the hostess’s ear to seat them close to their mystery couple, though this time, they’re given a table instead of one of the high-backed booths they normally favor

Logan sits beside Veronica, instead of across from her, and puts his arm around her like he can’t bear to be a whole table-length away. Which is maybe true; they often sit side by side in a booth but this way they can both see their target. 

“Spot any clues yet?” Logan leans close and whispers in her ear. 

“Not a first date, but still early on in their relationship,” Veronica observes as the couple holds hands and gazes at each other across the red-and-white-checkered plastic tablecloth. 

“I’d really like to figure out how old they are,” she murmurs back to Logan, unobtrusively noting details. 

The girl’s sparkly lip gloss, crop top and mini skirt with Uggs scream ‘high school.’ She tosses her long, straight brown hair over her shoulder, revealing a familiar green and yellow braided bracelet on her wrist. 

“Go Pirates,” Logan whispers as he plays with the dripping wax in the candle holder on the table. “She must go to Neptune.”

“Do you think Wallace can sneak in and get me her permanent file?” Veronica jokes, twirling her straw wrapper between her fingers. 

Logan takes a sip of his water and shakes his head. “Poor Wallace, roped into your schemes.”

“He loves it. So do you.” She scoffs.

He kisses her temple. “I definitely do. But I’m not sure we should break into the Neptune administration office. I spent four years mostly trying to break out.”

“What do you think about the guy?” Veronica asks, but they are interrupted by the arrival of their waiter. 

She doesn’t even need to open her menu to order them lasagna, manicotti, and chicken Parmesan to share. Plus breadsticks, of course. The waiter raises his eyebrows but refrains from commenting as he writes it down. Logan smirks and kisses Veronica’s cheek. 

“Not sure about the guy.” He resumes their conversation by whispering in her ear and she tries to surreptitiously steal glances at the man sitting in the booth across from them. 

The lighting in Luigi’s is dim, flickering candles in glass sconces on the wall and on the tables, so all she can tell is that he is of indeterminate age—between 15 to 25, she’d guess—of average height and build, and that he’s fairly good-looking. His black hair is shaggy but it works with his striking blue eyes, frayed blue jeans, and grungy tight black Rolling Stones t-shirt. 

Turning her attention back to her food, Veronica figures she might as well enjoy the turn this stakeout has taken and eats all of her dinner, plus some of Logan’s. He just smiles and feeds her bites of manicotti. 

Their plates clean, she gazes into his eyes, only half-faking their lovesick couple routine, when she notices the guy at their table in question getting up. As he walks past them on his way to the bathroom, he scratches his bicep and the hem of his t-shirt sleeve rides up, revealing a green shamrock tattoo. 

Veronica is instantly on alert. It could be a coincidence; after all, it’s a common symbol and probably a common tattoo. But this is Neptune and she’s not sure she believes in coincidences anymore. 

“Logan,” she hisses. “Follow him.”

“To the bathroom? What will I learn in there that will be relevant, Muffin?”

He’s using food pet names again, to irritate her probably, but she ignores it and rolls her eyes. “Do you want me to follow him? Because you know I will.”

He sighs. “Be right back, Honeybunches. I have to visit the little boys room.” 

His fake, perky voice carries across the restaurant and she gives him a brittle smile. 

“Don’t be too long, Pookie. I’ll miss you too much.” She scrunches her nose at him and once he disappears, she waves the waiter over to order dessert to go. Cannolis are probably a good choice for eating in the car. 

A few minutes later, Logan returns from his reconnaissance mission and sits down next to her. “Well-endowed but—”

Veronica claps her hand over his mouth so he can’t finish that sentence. 

“Eww. I don’t want to know!” She hisses through clenched teeth, then removes her hand and glares at him for a moment, before leaning in to whisper in his ear. “I think we need to drop the tail anyway, and let our lovebirds go so that Vinnie doesn’t see us and get suspicious.” 

“Shall we linger over dessert, then?”

She’s already ordered the cannolis to go but…. “Molten chocolate lava cake?”

“Is that a new pet name or a request?”

——

Veronica surreptitiously checks the parking lot when they leave, but both the Thunderbird and Vinnie’s Charger are gone. Since she has their addresses and the plate number for the Thunderbird, losing the marks isn’t a big deal. She can do some digging tomorrow and hopefully come up with some names to go with the faces. She knows Vinnie has connections to the Fitzpatrick family—if, in fact, that’s what the shamrock tattoo signifies. Why would he be following one of them, though? Aren’t they partners? 

Pondering this, she drives Logan back to his house in silence and puts her car into park, letting it idle in the driveway. 

They sit in silence for a moment, before Veronica remembers her father’s announcement that Harmony will be joining them for Thanksgiving, and she turns to Logan decisively.

“So. Wanna spend Thanksgiving at my house?”

Logan looks over at her in surprise. “Really? Are—are you sure?”

His words are hesitant but his eyes are soft and his adorable lopsided smile spreads across his face and, oh, crap, Veronica realizes she’s given him the wrong impression. She winces, but then schools her features. 

“It’s not that big of a deal.” She aims for breezy, hoping to convey that it’s not an overly significant milestone. “My dad invited Harmony, so…”

His face falls and she realizes she’s approaching this all wrong. She should have let him know from the start that the invite is more of an ‘I need your help’ thing than a ‘spend the holiday with me’ request. But he pretends it’s fine. Logan is a better actor than either of his parents ever were. His face loses its openness as his sardonic mask drops back into place. 

She has to strain to hear his low, quiet response. “Oh, yeah, sure, Bobcat.” 

“No calling me ‘Bobcat’ in front of my dad,” she teases. 

“Right, Muffin. I forgot.” His mumbled words are joking but he doesn’t meet her eyes and she can tell he’s hurt.

“Does your dad know you’re out doing this tonight with me?”

He eyes her quizzically and in that moment she hates that he knows her so well. She doesn’t answer.

“It kinda feels like junior year of high school all over again—hiding our secret rendezvous from your dad,” Logan comments, fiddling with the radio dial so he doesn’t have to look at her. 

“I thought secrets were hot.” She shoots him a suggestive smile and leans over to kiss him, but he tilts his head so her lips brush his cheek. Now it’s his turn to stay silent. 

Veronica pulls away. “It’s, it’s not you. You know that, right?”

He nods once, curtly, but it’s obvious he’s lying. 

“He doesn’t want me investigating. That’s why I didn’t tell him. It has nothing to do with you.”

She’s pretty sure he still doesn’t believe her but this time he lets her kiss him, deep and long, and while she might not be good with words, she pours everything she’s feeling into it, affirming him, and when he finally pulls away the sadness is gone from his eyes. 

What she sees in his eyes now is definitely lust. As a thank you for the stakeout date and an apology for the botched Thanksgiving invitation, she lets him pull her into his lap and get to second base before she finally shoos him out of the car and heads back home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to Heavenli24, who always understands what I'm trying to say--even when I say it very badly--and helps me put it into better words!


	5. Chapter 5

Veronica lies in bed that night, staring at the ceiling, and thinks back over the events of the day. There’s something about the gun buyback program that feels fishy, and in her gut, she knows Vinnie’s connected to the Fitzpatricks. Maybe she should try to find out more about the shooting in Anaheim, or keep closer tabs on Vinnie. 

She rolls over onto her side to try to get more comfortable, tucking her hand under her head. What with classes, homework, and her mandated library job, she can’t keep spending all her time tailing Vinnie. If she could just borrow some tracking equipment from her dad….

Veronica tries laying on her other side; maybe that will be more comfortable. She lets her thoughts drift again. 

No, her dad will definitely notice if any of his bugs or trackers go missing and she’ll be the first person he suspects—and rightly so. If only he hadn’t made her stop working for him!

At some point, she’ll have to think about this new law school track that her father keeps pushing, but for now, it’s more fun to spy on Vinnie. He’s the sheriff now, so she has to be careful. If she can’t borrow from her dad, maybe it’s time to invest in some tech gear of her own. 

With a sigh, Veronica throws off her covers and abandons her bed for her desk. She clearly isn’t going to be sleeping any time soon. She pulls her laptop open and leans back in her desk chair, searching eBay for good deals on surveillance equipment. If she doesn’t need it beyond this case, well, she can always sell it back. Or give it to her dad for Christmas.

——-

“Thanks for meeting me for breakfast.” Veronica slides into the red booth next to Logan, placing a quick kiss on his cheek. 

She loves this diner near campus and sharing breakfast with Logan here has become a welcome morning ritual. The decor is kitschy, with vinyl booths, Formica tables, Route 66-themed metal signs, and cutesy salt-and-pepper shakers. The set at their table today is two ugly painted ceramic Siamese cats, white and black, of course. But the food is cheap and delicious, and the wait staff doesn’t interrupt too much.

“Of course.” He’s sprawled out in the space, leaning back casually, and he drapes an arm across the back of the booth and tugs on her ponytail. 

She rakes her eyes down his body, taking in his frayed jeans, flip-flops, and snug green Fruit Loops t-shirt. She’s not sure about the t-shirt, but it hugs his torso tightly and the overall effect is quite pleasing to the eye. Her stomach growls before he notices her stare and he gestures at the plates of food in front of them. 

“I hope you don’t mind, I already ordered. Help yourself.”

She grins and grabs a fork from the rolled-up silverware, digging into her eggs and French toast heartily. Logan takes a sip of coffee and watches her for a second, before pulling a large padded envelope out of his backpack on the floor under the table. He dangles it up by one corner. It has Veronica’s name on it, but Logan’s address. 

“So. Is this your way of telling me you’re moving in?” 

She gulps, swallowing a too-big bite of French toast and hurting her throat in the process. She can’t read the expression in his eyes, can’t tell if he’s joking about this or hopeful. 

“Um. Not exactly.” She takes a sip of coffee to stall—Logan has even added cream and sugar just the way she likes it. “I should have mentioned I used your address, I didn’t think you’d mind—”

“I don’t mind.” He cuts her off. “What’s in the package?” 

He sets the envelope down on the table and stares at it instead of meeting her eyes. 

“Remember how you helped me tail Vinnie Van Lowe last week?” Veronica takes another forkful of French toast, swirls it through the puddle of syrup on her plate, and pops it in her mouth. 

Logan looks up at her and nods. 

“I don’t trust him. I think—well, I just want to see what he’s up to. So I bought some tracking equipment.” She waves at the envelope. 

“Why?” Logan’s eyes are curious, not judging, as he looks across the booth at her. 

She swallows another bite. “Why am I tracking Vinnie?”

He waves the question away. “No, that’s obvious. He’s clearly scum. Why did you buy tracking equipment and have it sent to my house?”

“Ah.” Veronica picks up her coffee cup and stares into the liquid, hoping it will give her the answers. It doesn’t. “Well, my dad,” she takes a sip, “isn’t really too keen on me investigating right now, so borrowing his tech is out. He wants me to work at the library instead of his office.”

Logan’s face reflects his confusion and he steals a bite of bacon off her plate while he thinks. “I wondered why you took that job. What about the FBI, then?”

She sighs. “Logan, I haven’t been totally open about everything that happened—everything I did—last spring.” She looks down at the chipped Formica table top, no longer hungry. “I wasn’t—I didn’t—”

“Hey, Ronnie, it’s okay. I don’t care.” His voice is urgent as he puts his hand on top of hers reassuringly. “I just thought your dad was really excited about the FBI thing. And that involves investigating, right?”

She sniffs. “It was more a good excuse to get me out of Neptune for the summer, I think. Now he’s pushing for law school or something.”

Logan’s eyes widen in surprise. “Oh, right. The pre-law major. If that’s what you want—I’m sure you’d be great—”

She interrupts him. “I don’t know.”

They sit in a heavy silence for a beat. Veronica stirs her coffee absently, the spoon clinking against the ceramic mug, while Logan builds a tower out of cream containers. 

“Remember that night on The Grand—on the roof?” She keeps her eyes on her coffee but his audible gulp tells her he does. It will likely be burned into his mind forever, just like hers. 

“That was the worst night of my life.” Her voice is low and despondent. “Not because—well—” She takes a deep breath and starts again. “Because I thought I lost my dad.” 

Her throat clogs with tears thinking about it. She can feel Logan’s eyes on her face now but she can’t bring herself to meet his gaze.

“I can’t—” she continues, “I can’t do anything that would, that might—I can’t lose him.” 

Veronica looks at him now, feeling tears prick her eyes. Logan holds her stare and then nods decisively. 

He must know he’s pushed her as far as she can go emotionally this morning, because he turns to the package on the table and pokes it with his finger. “So what’s in here?”

Grateful for the subject change, she blinks furiously and clears her throat. “Should be car trackers and some listening devices. Let’s find out.” 

She grabs the padded mailing envelope and rips it open. The contents spill out onto the table, fulfilling her order as promised, and a slow half-smile spreads across her face. She turns her head to look at Logan. 

“Wanna help me put this purchase to good use?” She raises a questioning brow. 

“Of course. What do you have in mind?”

—-

Logan drives them the two blocks to the tall, Mission-style stone county building that houses the Sheriff’s Department—in case they have to make a quick getaway, he says. Veronica rolls her eyes at this and thinks he’s maybe enjoying his James Bond fantasy a little too much, but she lets him get away with it. It’s kind of fun having him as her backup again. 

She scans the parking spaces for Vinnie’s black Dodge Charger as Logan pulls in. 

“Over there.” She points to a prominent space by the front entrance steps labeled ‘Sheriff Department Parking Only—All Others Will be Towed.’ 

After glancing around, she quickly hops out of the Range Rover and plants two trackers on Vinnie’s car—one in the back passenger wheel well and the other under the back bumper. Just to be safe. 

Then she climbs back in Logan’s vehicle and turns on her tracker screen. Yep, two blinking red dots appear on the map, showing where Vinnie’s car is parked. 

“Bingo,” she murmurs. “Now for the tricky one.” 

She pulls the tiny audio listening devices out of the mailing envelope stuffed in her messenger bag and glances around. 

“Okay.” She points at a late-model Honda Civic with an ‘I Love My Pomeranian’ bumper sticker on the back window. “Inga is working so I’m gonna have a hard time sneaking in. Can you come up with a distraction that will get her and Vinnie out of the office?”

Logan hesitates and puts his hand on her forearm. “V...he’s the Sheriff. Are you sure you want to do this?” 

Veronica frowns. “Yes, I’m sure. How else will I know what he’s up to?”

“It just seems risky. Even for you.”

She narrows her eyes. “You don’t have to help, you know. I thought you liked--

“That’s not what I’m saying,” His fingers close around her arm now, holding her in place gently. “I just want to make sure that you've thought about it.”

She nods. “I’m sure.”

Logan grabs the door handle. “Then let’s do this.”

——

Veronica sneaks in the building behind Logan, ducking into a shadowed alcove and listening while he leans against the front desk and throws a giant jackass hissy fit about a scratch on his car in the parking lot that pulls both Inga and Vinnie outside to inspect it. 

Once they move past her hiding spot—Logan going on loudly about his sizeable tax dollars at work—she counts to ten and then scuttles out, hurrying past Inga’s intake desk, to the Sheriff’s office on the right side of the bullpen. 

She takes a deep breath and looks around. The last time she was in this office, it belonged to her dad. She feels a stab of guilt in her belly, sharp and deep, as she thinks about her reckless mistakes which cost him this job. Maybe her father won’t have this again, but Vinnie and his obvious corruption sure don’t deserve it, either. 

Veronica shakes off her moment of introspection and grabs one of the tiny listening devices from her denim jacket pocket. She quickly sticks it under the lip of Vinnie’s large wooden desk as she leans against the front of it. She’s trying to decide if she needs to put one in a second location or perhaps bug the phone when a voice startles her from behind. 

“Hey, Veronica. Miss me?”

She spins to see Leo D’Amato leaning against the doorframe, giving her his most charming smile. 

“Hey, Deputy.” She tries to calm her racing heart so that he won’t see her pulse jumping in her throat. “How’ve you been?”

He tilts his outstretched hand from side to side. “Same old, same old. Is there anything I can help you with?” 

He raises his eyebrows, silently asking what she’s doing in Vinnie’s office and she thinks fast. “I was actually hoping to talk to Vinnie. I’m writing a freelance story for the Hearst Free Press about his gun buyback program. Do you know anything about that?”

She tilts her head and twirls her ponytail around her finger. Yeah, the obvious flirty moves are kind of a mean thing to do to Leo, who is way too easy a mark for a cop, but desperate times and all that. 

She gives him her most charming smile and sees his Adam’s apple bob as he gulps. Then he raises his eyebrows and his mouth quirks up in a grin, responding to her. Oh, Leo. He really needs to find a nice girl who will never—okay, rarely—manipulate him like this. 

“Oh, yeah, sure. I don’t know where Vinnie is but you’re in luck.” He continues to smile, showing off his white teeth. “I helped with the collection last month.” 

He moves out of the doorway and motions over to his desk in the bullpen. She gives him a ‘thumbs up,’ eyes twinkling, and follows eagerly, trying to channel her best ‘intrepid girl reporter’ vibe. 

Leo sits down at his cluttered desk and smooths his brown sheriff’s deputy shirt. Veronica gives him an encouraging look as she sits down adjacent to him and fishes a notepad and pen from her purse. She desperately hopes he doesn’t notice it’s a sparkly unicorn notebook Wallace gave her as a gag gift. 

She clears her throat. “So what can you tell me about the buyback program? How did it work?”

He shrugs. “We collected guns, no questions asked, and gave two hundred dollars for each one. Simple.”

She pins him with a stare. “Leo. You’re not very good at interviews. C’mon, help a girl out with a few more details.”

He sighs, but gives her a coy smile and she knows he’s playing hard to get on purpose, enjoying the attention. “Okay. We collected about sixty guns and they were all destroyed. It was successful; good for publicity. That’s all I know.”

“Who funded it? Where did the guns go to be destroyed?” She tries her best not to sound too greedy for answers.

Leo shrugs. “Private donor. Overseas.” He gives a little huff of disappointment, mumbling, “I thought you’d want to know more about the guns.”

She takes pity on him, because she’s totally being a jerk by lying to him. She beams at him like he’s brilliant. “That was my next question! What can you tell me about the guns?”

He smiles, placated by her fawning. “It was an interesting assortment. Some antique rifles, probably not worth two hundred bucks, a few shotguns, but mostly handguns.” 

Veronica glances at the clock on the wall, realizing she’s more than used up the time Logan bought her. She stands quickly, and Leo jumps to his feet, too. 

“Thanks, Leo. You’re my new favorite source at the sheriff’s department.” At least that’s not a lie, she thinks. She turns to hurry out before she runs into the Sheriff of Nottingham--her personal nickname for him--but Leo’s voice stops her. 

“Say hi to your dad for me, Veronica. He’s, well, between you and me, he’s definitely missed around here.” He bounces a pen on his desk and meets her eyes briefly. 

She grimaces. Thanks, Leo. As if there weren’t enough reminders of Dad in Vinnie’s office already. Aloud she says, “Yeah. Thanks again.”

With a wave, she quickly makes her way out of the bullpen, but instead of heading out the front door, she sneaks around to the back entrance and sends Logan a quick text. Thanks to hours spent here as a kid, she is more than familiar with the best hiding spots and the service entrance. 

She peeks out the heavy steel door and sees Logan pull up in his Range Rover, as if on cue. She grins. “Best getaway driver ever.” 

She exits the building and slides in the passenger side of his car, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. “Thanks, partner.” 

She’s breathless from the exhilaration of their little operation, smiling as she buckles her seat belt and settles her messenger bag at her feet. 

He bobs his eyebrows at her. “I’ve been practicing my diversionary tactics since I was twelve.”

“Twelve? That’s how old we were when we first met.” She smiles coyly, tapping her finger on her chin and looking up at him with wide eyes. 

“Coincidence, Mars? I think not.” He winks at her as he puts the car in drive and peels out of the parking lot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to Heavenli24! If anything here makes sense, it's only because of her!


	6. Chapter 6

“Veronica?” 

Her dad knocks on her bedroom door and, after hearing her “Come in!”, he pushes it open. 

She’s sitting crossed-legged on her bed, laptop open in front of her. 

He looks hesitant. “Can we chat for a second?”

She glances at the open casefile on her computer screen, hidden amongst her criminology class notes. Everything is password-protected and she doesn’t think her dad will snoop, but still. The last thing she wants is for him to get wind of her Vinnie Van Lowe investigation. 

“Sure.” 

Trying not to grimace at the thought of a heart-to-heart, she snaps her computer closed and pushes it to the side. She pats the spot on her bed next to her and her dad perches on the edge. 

“I just wanted to say,” he pauses and clears his throat, “I know it will be different for us to have company for Thanksgiving. It’s been a while since we’ve done anything like this, huh?”

Veronica puts her hand on his arm. “Dad, it’s okay. I don’t—” 

She waves her hand in the air to encompass all the things she won’t say: ‘I don’t miss Mom.’ That’s true, but Lianne is a topic she won’t breach. ‘I don’t mind that Harmony’s coming.’ Well, that’s less than true. She definitely doesn’t trust Harmony because of her past relationship history, but she doesn’t think her father wants to hear that. She’s pretty sure this is his ‘be nice’ speech anyway, so she forces a small smile onto her face.

“It’s fine.” 

It is fine. Or rather, it will be. She knows this is important to her dad and she can’t bear to disappoint him—not again, not after everything that happened this spring. 

“Dad, I’ll do everything I can to make it a special day.”

Keith pats her hand. “I’m just glad we can spend it together. And having Harmony and your gentleman caller here will be nice, too, of course.”

Veronica narrows her eyes at him. “His name’s Logan, Dad. Wouldn’t kill you to be a little nicer.”

He mimes stabbing himself in the heart and makes an exaggerated ‘dead’ face—tongue sticking out and eyes crossed. 

She rolls her eyes and shoves him gently. “Get out of here. Shoo. I’ve gotta get some work done so I can start on my pies.”

“Anything for pie.” 

Keith smiles at her as he closes the door and Veronica flops down on her bed. She huffs out a breath and tries to mentally prepare herself to spend the next day being nice to her dad’s girlfriend. 

______

Veronica headed into her Thanksgiving meal preparation this morning thinking it’d be easy, but she’s sorely disappointed. While she still has high hopes for her lemon meringue and pumpkin pies, the main course has been something of a disaster: the mashed potatoes are bland, the turkey is dry, the green bean casserole is soupy, and the canned cranberries are...well, weird. 

Admittedly, she was distracted while cooking, listening to the bug from Vinnie’s office, and so she probably didn’t give the food enough attention. It wasn’t even worth her time; besides Vinnie singing “Bad Boys” to himself for a solid hour, she didn’t hear anything at all. Putting herself through that was akin to torture. 

Veronica’s crammed next to Logan at the kitchen island—his plate is practically in the sink and she has no idea how he’s folded his long legs under the table—across from her dad and Harmony. She’s trying to be nice to Harmony for her father’s sake, she really is, but the woman is just so irritating. She knows deep down that she’s not giving Harmony the benefit of the doubt but she can’t manage to think of her as anything but a cheater. One too many money shots at the Camelot, she supposes.

But for the sake of a peaceful Thanksgiving holiday, she tries to shove down her innate dislike of her father’s girlfriend. She puts on her practiced pep squad smile, eats her tasteless mashed potatoes and makes small talk, all the while desperately squeezing Logan’s hand under the table.

After dinner, her dad suggests pie and she jumps up, thankful for the distraction. The utensils rattle in the drawer as she roots around for the pie server and while she plasters her fake smile on her face, she’s pretty sure she’d rather be strapped to an anthill than endure any more of this meal. She keeps her sigh contained as she digs the Cool Whip out of the fridge and plates slices of the pumpkin pie, presenting it with a brittle smile and her best ‘ta-da’ gesture.

“Veronica! This is delicious!” Keith praises as he digs into his piece. As they polish off their dessert, he continues to raves over the pie and crack jokes about pilgrims and she can tell that he thinks everything is fine. Which is good because she doesn’t want him to be disappointed. After the disastrous meal, she probably needs to work harder at that

Logan surreptitiously squeezes her thigh under the table and she relaxes into his touch. He shoots her a concerned glance as he takes a bite of his pie and she suspects that he’s on to her ruse. 

Her dad lets his fork fall onto his empty plate with a clatter and he leans back in his chair, sighing. He places his hand over Harmony’s and smiles at her affectionately while she gazes into his eyes. Veronica is proud of herself for not gagging. She does her best to squash those feelings but sends Logan a desperate look. He gives her one of sympathy and pats her knee soothingly. 

“Veronica, you did so much to make this amazing meal,” Harmony compliments with a smile as she sets her fork down. “Please let me do the dishes.” Veronica notices that she only ate half her pie.

“Oh, no, you’re a guest,” Veronica protests, but Keith cuts her off.

“No, we got this.” He stands and, after adjusting his belt, grabs a dish towel and begins clearing plates. “You kids should take Backup for a walk.”

Truth be told, getting out of the uncomfortable apartment does sound nice. 

“Yeah, c’mon, Pumpkin. Let’s go.” Logan practically races to fetch Backup from her bedroom—there wasn’t room for him in the kitchen during dinner. When he returns, he grabs Veronica’s hand and drags her out the door, tossing her a green hoodie on the way. 

“Slow down, Tiger!” She huffs as Logan and her dog both head excitedly down the apartment stairs and follow the path toward the beach. 

He just laughs and tugs on her arm. 

Veronica does have to admit that it feels good to be outside. The atmosphere in the cramped apartment was becoming claustrophobic. Out on the beach, she takes deep breaths of the clean ocean air and watches Logan toss a driftwood stick to Backup. The rhythm of the waves crashing on the shore and the sun on her face help soothe her frayed nerves. By the time Logan and Backup amble over to her, both worn out from their game, she gives her boyfriend a genuine smile and pulls him in close for a hug. Backup flops down on the sand and leans against her feet as Logan strokes her hair and places a gentle kiss on the top of her head. 

“How are you doing, Veronica?” he asks, pulling away to look at her searchingly.

She sighs. “Is it that obvious?”

He shakes his head slowly. 

“No, probably not.” He clears his throat and takes a different tack with her. “Why are you so against Harmony? I don’t know a ton about step-moms, but she doesn’t seem that bad.”

“She’s not my stepmom!” Veronica huffs. “Not by a long shot.”

Logan shrugs and sits down on the beach, pulling her to sit between his legs. Veronica settles back against his chest.

“So what is it about Harmony that bothers you?”

She takes a few calming breaths and lets her head loll against his shoulder, enjoying his solid presence behind her. 

“She cheated on her husband. With my dad.” Veronica’s voice is quiet. “And I just—I can’t seem to get over it. Once a cheater, always a cheater. You know how I’m built.”

“You’ve forgiven me for worse,” he points out, running his hands up and down her arms. Warmth spreads through her chest at his touch. 

“Yeah, I have.” She’s quiet, contemplating his words, and then tries to explain. “It’s just been my dad and I for so long…” 

“You really never thought that he might date or get remarried at some point?” 

She shakes her head. 

“He’s dated a little bit, obviously. But I mostly tried not to think about it. The reality of my dad dating is kind of icky.” 

She shrugs, her shoulders rising against his back, and Logan nods, his chin brushing her hair. 

“Although,” she continues, “I always kind of liked Mrs. Fennel.”

“Mrs. Fennel?” Logan’s voice is incredulous. “Wait—you mean Wallace’s mom?”

“Yeah, they dated a little bit. But something happened, I don’t know what, and it didn’t work out. So here we are.”

Veronica gives a deep sigh and tries not to compare Harmony to Alicia Fennel; because, as Logan’s voicemail would probably tell her, comparison is the thief of joy. Or some shit like that. She angles her head against his shoulder, brushing her hair off her neck, hoping he will take the hint. He does, and the pressure of his soft lips there makes her shiver with desire. 

“Mmm. Too bad we can’t get out of here for a while tonight.” Logan’s breath vibrates against her skin and she twists in his arms, facing him on her knees and kissing him. 

“I definitely agree,” she says between kisses as he lays back on the sand and pulls her on top of him. “But we’re stuck here with Dad and Harmony.”

His hands cradle her face as he gives her another kiss. “Bobcat, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

She snorts at his sentimentality but gives in to his lips against hers, insistent and warm.

Backup barks, interrupting what is about to become a very steamy kiss and Veronica figures they should head back before things get too heated between them. She stands up and brushes off her jeans, trying to dislodge the sand. Logan grabs the leash, clips it on Backup’s collar, and laces his fingers with hers. 

“Thanks for giving me a few minutes out here to regroup, Logan.” She stares at the sand, unwilling to meet his eyes. “Once more unto the breach, and all that.”

He squeezes her hand in response. “Come over to my place tomorrow?” 

Veronica likes the sound of a nice, relaxing day lying around Logan’s house—maybe a good portion of it will be spent in bed. A small half-smile graces her features. “Yeah, okay. But in front of my dad, let’s call it ‘Christmas shopping’ instead of ‘your place.’”

Logan looks less excited about this than she expected. His smile doesn’t actually reach his eyes. However, he lets go of her hand, and puts his arm around her comfortingly, so she doesn’t question it. 

______

When they get back to her apartment, the dishes are all cleaned up, the leftovers are packed away, and Keith and Harmony are cuddled together on the couch watching a movie. 

The sound of the Heat Miser song fills the space and Veronica stiffens. “A Christmas movie? Already? It’s Thanksgiving. There are rules about this, Pops.”

Keith looks up distractedly, his arms wrapped around Harmony. “Well, it was on.”

“And it’s my favorite,” Harmony gushes, smiling up at Keith. 

“Well, I can’t condone this kind of anarchy. We’re gonna…” Veronica jerks her thumb in the direction of her bedroom and at her father’s acquiescing nod, heads down the hallway. Logan follows.

To distract herself from the fact that her dad is watching their Christmas movie with Harmony, she settles on her bed and opens her laptop. Logan curls around behind her, rubbing her back soothingly, his chin resting on her shoulder as he watches her work. 

She types her username and password into the Prying Eyes database, but finds she’s locked out. She swears under her breath.

“Did you forget your new password?” Logan asks. 

Veronica shakes her head grimly. “Nope. I bet the account owner changed my access.” 

She jerks her head in the direction of the living room, trying to suppress her irritation with her father for restricting her access. Honestly, she didn’t really believe him at first when he forbid her from working cases. Now she knows he was serious—and it’s making her little side investigation harder than she expected.

“Well, you have your P.I. license. It shouldn’t matter, right?”

“It’s a subscription service,” she explains. “You have to pay for access to the database; it’s not like an automatic P.I. membership.” 

Veronica internally debates the merits of buying a new subscription with her hard-earned savings—after all, living expenses next year won’t be cheap—but ultimately decides that she can’t live without access to all her favorite information. 

She hops up, grabbing her credit card from her bag and waving away the Black Amex that Logan tries to hand her from his wallet. “I don’t need your money. This is totally worth it. Google’s just not sufficient.”

“So does this mean you’re planning to work more than just this one case, then?” Logan’s eyes hold no judgement, only curiosity. 

Veronica shrugs. “I hadn’t really thought about it.” 

That’s not entirely true. She definitely thought about it when she purchased surveillance equipment to track of Vinnie. She knows her dad doesn’t want her anywhere near this case—or any case, for that matter. She doesn’t want to let him down but...will she work other cases? Is this a one-time deal? Can she give it up after she gets justice for her dad and Neptune, and gets Vinnie out of office? She doesn’t know. 

She’s not ready to have this conversation with Logan, though, so she says, “Just keeping my options open.”

“Well, I think you’re good enough to go into business for yourself.” He kisses her shoulder, resting his chin there again and pulling her back against him. “Anytime you need a sexy secretary, I’ll be happy to provide my services.”

She snorts. “Like I could afford a secretary.”

“Oh, no, I was thinking you’d pay me in sexual favors.” Logan bobs his eyebrows and gently tickles her waist.

She slaps his hands away. “Do you file? Answer phones? Take care of travel arrangements?”

“Nope. But every hard-boiled PI needs a secretary with legs that go on for days.” He gestures up and down his body, encompassing his—admittedly long—legs stretched out on her bed.

“The job’s all yours.”

Veronica falls silent as she loses herself in her search. 

“The Thunderbird is registered to a Karen MacDonald,” she tells Logan a few moments later.

“Hmm.” Logan kisses her cheek. “Did that guy look like a Karen to you?”

“Not exactly. I wonder...was your car in your name in high school?”

He shakes his head no. 

“I think it was registered to Aaron until…” He pauses and Veronica feels bad for making him think about his dead parents on Thanksgiving. Aaron may have been a monster but he was his father, after all, and she hates bringing up anything that causes Logan pain. He clears his throat. “Until I sold it last summer.”

“So maybe our Thunderbird driver has someone else’s car or is still in high school?” she theorizes. 

“Doesn’t look like the kind of car you’d get for your sixteenth birthday.” Logan sounds dubious. 

“Maybe not in your part of town.” Veronica retorts teasingly. “In the 02 neighborhood, the gift of a car is not taken lightly, Richie Rich.”

They drift into silence again, and the sound of her fingers clicking on the keys fills the room while Logan’s head lulls on her shoulder. His breath comes in little huffs against her neck as he dozes.

“Debra Villarreal? Why is that familiar?” she mutters to herself. 

Logan shrugs, coming out of his stupor a bit and bobbing his chin on her shoulder. 

“Dunno,” he mumbles into her neck as his hands tighten on her waist. “Secretarial work is exhausting. Can we take a nap now?”

Veronica giggles and turns to kiss him. 

“Tryptophan getting to you?” she murmurs against his mouth. 

“Mmm-hmm.” 

The kiss is just starting to get interesting—Logan’s hands make their way under her shirt to caress the soft skin of her belly—when her dad chooses that moment to knock on her door.

They break apart quickly as she calls out, “Come in!”, but Keith’s face registers his disapproval at their physical proximity as he peeks his head in the doorway.

“Logan, it’s about time for you to be heading home.” 

His tone is firm and Veronica swallows down her disappointment with him. She’s trying to play nice with Harmony. Why can’t he give Logan the same courtesy?

“Oh, is Harmony leaving, too?” 

Keith’s eyes narrow at her faux-innocent voice, but before he can respond, Logan disentangles from her and hops off the bed, standing in front of her dad in the doorframe. He extends his hand. 

“Thanks, Mr. Mars, for inviting me. It was great to have somewhere to spend the holiday.” 

He meets her father’s eyes steadily, until Keith looks down and Veronica realizes in that moment how much taller Logan is than her dad. He’s no longer the boy she knew in middle school; he’s a man now. A mature adult. Her heart fills with pride at the thought. 

“Sure, Logan. Anytime.” Keith’s voice is gruff and he looks ashamed at the subtle reminder that Logan has no one else to spend the day with. 

One point for Logan, she thinks. 

“I’ll just see him out.” She closes her laptop and jumps up, linking her arm through Logan’s and squeezing past her dad in the tiny hallway, head held high. She hears Keith’s sigh as she pulls her boyfriend into the kitchen. 

“Wanna take some leftovers with you?” She rummages through the neatly packed plastic containers in the refrigerator.

“Nah. Mrs. Sanchez left the fridge stocked for the weekend.” He turns to the living room and waves at Harmony. “Happy Thanksgiving, Mrs. Chase.”

“It’s actually Russo.” She gives Logan a small, tight smile. 

“Pardon?”

“I’m not actually Mrs. Chase anymore. I’m divorced. My maiden name was Russo. So it’s Ms. Russo now.” Harmony twists her fingers together nervously. “But of course you should call me Harmony.” 

As she listens to Harmony ramble, she realizes that Logan is not the only one spending the day without family. She sighs, not wanting to feel compassion for this woman, but struck with it nonetheless. Maybe she should try to be nicer—genuinely so. 

Logan nods and pats Backup goodbye on his way out the door. He gives Veronica a chaste kiss on the top of her head. “See you tomorrow at the mall. Can’t wait to take you shopping.” He winks at her and she hopes her dad heard him—and believes the little white lie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, this chapter was seriously a mess until Heavenli helped me sort it out. She's the best :)


	7. Chapter 7

“I know why Debra Villarreal’s name sounded familiar!” Veronica crows the next day. 

 

She’s settled on Logan’s black leather sectional with her feet tucked under her, wrapped in a cashmere blanket and her laptop on her lap. He’s sprawled next to her, comfortable in grey jersey sweatpants and a faded Sex Wax t-shirt, flipping through the TV channels absently. 

 

“Oh?” He stirs from his stupor, languid as a cat, and raises an eyebrow. “Do tell.”

 

“She’s one of Vinnie’s ex-wives.” She twirls her ponytail around her finger victoriously. 

 

“So the girl…” Logan sits up, interested in her puzzle now. 

 

“Yep. She’s Vinnie’s daughter. Debra changed their names after the divorce—must not be a lot of love lost there but he’s listed on the birth certificate.” Veronica continues to pore over the Prying Eyez records on her computer. 

 

“I guess it’s less creepy if he’s following his own daughter around.” Logan grimaces. “Although still not normal, right?”

 

Veronica shrugs her shoulders. “Overprotective dads do crazy things. Mine is probably tracking my phone or my car as we speak.”

 

“You don’t think he believed we wanted to brave the mall today?” Logan smirks and tugs on her hair playfully. 

 

“Maybe we should go park my car there,” she jokes. 

 

“You know, you could just start telling him the truth.” Logan stares just past her ear as he continues to play with her hair, his voice serious.

 

Veronica sighs. “Yeah, he’s having a harder time with this than I expected. I kinda thought he’d be over it by now.”

 

“He must really not like me.” Logan rubs the back of his neck and won’t meet her eyes.

 

When he starts playing with the fringe on her blanket, Veronica frowns. He’s obviously more bothered that he lets on, but she doesn’t know what to say to reassure him. It doesn’t help that she suspects he’s right. Brushing him off or changing the subject, apparently, isn’t working. 

 

“It’s not that,” she struggles to explain, to come up with an excuse that he might believe, because she can’t very well tell him the truth: she’s pretty sure her dad doesn’t like him. It’s as if her father still sees Logan as the boy she accused of murder; as the seventeen-year-old who smashed their lamp and got thrown out of the apartment, and she doesn’t understand why Keith refuses to acknowledge that Logan has changed. 

 

“I think it’s more the ‘my little girl’s growing up’ thing.” She knows it’s lame, but it’s the only thing she can think of. “I think he’s worried about being replaced as the man in my life.”

 

“But Wallace told me he liked Piz. A lot.” Logan’s brown eyes are swimming with self-doubt and uncertainty. 

 

_ Damn Wallace and his meddling ways. _ She suspects he’s still upset about her and Piz—which is really none of his business. She’ll definitely have to do some BFF damage control soon. 

 

“Well, Wallace doesn’t know everything,” she says, brusquely, before quickly switching the subject back to her case. “I still don’t know as much about these kids as I’d like. Prying Eyez is great, but no substitute for good ol’ Neptune High records.”

 

Logan looks up at her in surprise. “You mean…”

 

“Time to pay a visit to the alma mater.” She gives him a wicked grin. 

 

“You want to break into Clemmons’ office?” He is incredulous. 

 

“No need,” Veronica smirks. “I still have copies of his keys somewhere.”

 

Logan huffs a laugh at her. “Most people keep yearbooks or letter jackets. You kept the principal’s keys.” 

 

He delicately taps her nose with his index finger. She bats him away and shrugs.

 

“I thought they might come in handy someday. And see, I was right.” He leans over and kisses the gloating smile off her face. 

 

“I wouldn’t mind visiting my favorite spot at Neptune High,” he says, with a dirty grin. 

 

“Hmm.” Veronica puts her finger to her chin, pretending to think. “Now where did you like to spend your time? The backseat of your car in the secluded corner of the parking lot? Under the bleachers?”

 

He bobs his eyebrows at her. “We can visit all those places, but I was thinking of the girls’ bathroom, of course. The scene of my fondest memories.” 

 

She rolls her eyes but places a soft kiss on his lips. “That sounds so gross. I’m not making out with you in a public restroom. Not when you have such lovely spots here at home.” She grabs his shirt and pulls him closer for a deeper kiss, glad he’s sufficiently distracted from their previous conversation. 

 

“Mmm.” He moves to kiss her neck, sucking lightly. “My shower has become a new favorite location. Also the hot tub. And that one very memorable time on the kitchen counter.”

 

“You forgot to mention your bed.” Veronica’s breath comes in little gasps as he continues to kiss the sensitive skin of her neck, scraping it lightly with his teeth. 

 

“Come remind me why it should make the list.” 

 

He raises his eyebrows suggestively and grabs her hand, sliding off the couch and pulling her up. As he leads her toward the bedroom, butterflies swoop in her belly. In anticipation, she tugs on his hand to encourage him to walk faster.

 

——

 

“V, hurry up,” Logan hisses as she selects yet another key from the massive, jangling ring. 

 

“Chill out,” she whispers back. “It’s Saturday night during Thanksgiving break. No one will be here.”

 

They drove Logan’s Range Rover—because black is better for late night B&Es, he said—and parked it around the back of the high school by the service entrance. There weren’t any other cars in the parking lot but Logan, acting as lookout while Veronica tries all the keys in her collection, is jittery. His hands are fisted into the front of his jeans’ pockets and he bounces lightly on the balls of his feet. The black zip-up sweater he’s donned makes him look less like a burglar and more like, well, hot, but Veronica refuses to be distracted. 

 

“Success,” she whispers as the key engages and the heavy steel door swings open. She drops the keys into her bag and adjusts it on her shoulder. 

 

Logan peers in the darkened hallway. “Where are we?”

 

She steps inside and motions for him to follow. “Back by the auto shop, boiler room, and art classes.”

 

He shrugs. “Not really where I spent much time.”

 

Veronica digs a flashlight out of her messenger bag. “Just in case.” 

 

There is enough illumination from the dim security lights that they can see for now. She grabs Logan’s hand and heads toward the front of the building. Every small sound they make echoes in the cavernous space. She’s never noticed how much her tennis shoes squeak before. It’s eerie as they move quickly through the deserted hallways. 

 

Veronica wishes she’d labeled her keys better, because after digging them out of her bag, she has to go through the same trial-and-error process as before. Logan makes himself useful by holding the flashlight for her. On the fourth try, the door to the main office creaks open. 

 

“Where are the files kept?” Logan asks, looking around curiously. 

 

She moves past the secretary’s desk to the wooden door labeled ‘Principal Van Clemmons.’ “In here.”

 

This time she gets the door open on the second try. 

 

“Veronica, just how many times have you done this?” 

 

Logan’s eyes are wide as they enter the room and she can’t tell if he is surprised or impressed with her B&E skills. He goes to flip on the light switch but she halts his hand, motioning at the window on the far wall. There’s enough light coming in from the parking lot and she doesn’t want to alert anyone to their presence. 

 

“Broken into Clemmons’ office? A few.” She heads toward the beige filing cabinets along the far wall of the office, skirting the desk.

 

“Check for Jennifer Villarreal, please.” She points Logan toward the second filing cabinet, pulling out a drawer on the bottom of the first one. “I’m going to look for Declan MacDonald.”

 

“Aha!” Logan exclaims after a moment, brandishing a manila file folder proudly. 

 

“Make like a teapot and spill it, Echolls,” she teases, continuing her hunt. 

 

“She’s new to Neptune this year,” he reads, holding the flashlight up to skim the sparse file. 

 

“Does it say where she transferred from?” Veronica doesn’t look up, just continues to thumb through the files in the first cabinet. She’s all too familiar with the location of students with last names starting with M.

 

“La Costa Canyon. I think that’s in Encinitas?”

 

She nods absently, pulling out Declan’s file. “She a good student?”

 

“Yep. Good grades, no discipline issues,” he scans the pages, before putting the sparse sheaves of paper back into the manila folder and peering over Veronica’s shoulder with the flashlight, invading her space. “What about Declan?” 

 

“He’s a much more interesting read.” Veronica raises her eyebrows. “It looks like he attended the ‘Logan Echolls School For Bad Boys and Jackasses.’”

 

“That title is far too long to be catchy. It’s an Academy, actually.” He smirks haughtily, leaning against the filing cabinets. The combination of the smirk and the lean causes her stomach to do a little flip. He’s given her three orgasms already today and she’s still ready to throw him down on Clemmons’ desk for another round.  _ God, he’s so hot _ . “And I’m sure no one will ever top my flagpole prank.”

 

She snaps out of her fantasy and forces herself to focus, turning back to the file. “Discipline issues, detention, a minor drug bust. This kid will be lucky to graduate this year.”

 

“He does sound like a protégé of mine. Any family details?” She bats his hand away as he tries to flip through the papers she’s holding. 

 

“No, I don’t—wait, here’s something.” She runs her finger over a sentence, highlighting an incident a few years ago. “He got into trouble with his cousin, Kevin Fitzpatrick. Looks like they beat up another kid in the parking lot.”

 

Their eyes meet as this revelation sets in. Veronica feels the thrill of discovering new, possibly relevant information race through her. She paces around the small space as they talk. 

 

“We know Vinnie got elected sheriff thanks to his connections with the Fitzpatricks. And now his daughter is dating one of them? Can that really be a coincidence?”

 

Logan moves over to Clemmons’ desk, leaning back against it as he swipes a paperclip and twists it between his fingers. “Even if Vinnie is a Fitzpatrick stooge, do you think he wants his daughter dating this guy?” 

 

He gestures at the file. 

 

Veronica makes a face. “She’s sixteen and pretty. He probably doesn’t want his daughter dating anyone. But definitely not a graduate of your Bad Boy Academy.”

 

“Maybe he can start that club with your dad,” he mutters under his breath, accidentally flinging the paperclip across the room. 

 

Veronica stops her pacing suddenly. “What was that?”

 

Logan opens his mouth, to argue or inquire, she doesn’t find out which, because they suddenly hear keys rattling in the door outside Clemmons’ office. 

 

“Shit!” Veronica hisses. She points to the hollow under the principal’s scarred, wooden desk. They both dive for it at once. 

 

Normally, Veronica, at 5’1,” would easily fit in the space by herself. But she’s not used to sharing her hiding spots with Logan and they get stuck partway in as he tries unsuccessfully to fold up his lanky limbs.

 

She swears again as the lights turn on, illuminating the room, and she stands, spinning around to see two figures in the doorway. 

 

“Why, Ms. Mars. This is unexpected.” 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, this only makes sense thanks to Heavenli24. All mistakes remaining are mine!


	8. Chapter 8

“Should have gone for the closet,” mutters Veronica as she takes in the all-too-familiar exasperated look on Principal Clemmons’ face and then the slightly amused one on Deputy Sacks’. She straightens, and pastes a bright, fake smile on her face. “Miss me, Mr. C?” 

 

A muffled thump and a curse emanate from Clemmons’ desk and she glances guiltily towards the sound. 

 

“Veronica? You got company down there?” Sacks asks. 

 

Logan sheepishly unfolds himself from the tiny space under Clemmons’ desk and stumbles to stand beside Veronica. 

 

“Mr. Echolls.” Van’s eyebrows practically hit his hairline. “I should have guessed.” He sighs and sticks his hands in the front pocket of his grey hooded UCSD DAD sweatshirt. 

 

Seeing Mr. Clemmons in casual clothes is off-putting, and Veronica realizes she must be staring when he gestures at the shirt with a sigh. “A gift from Vincent. He just found out—early admission.”

 

She nods.  _ That explains that.  _

 

“Veronica. Logan.” Sacks tries to be firm but she’s pretty sure that his mustache is hiding the beginnings of a smile. He rests his hand on his holster, a subtle reminder of his authority.  _ Well played, Sacks.  _ “What are you doing here?”

 

“Would you believe requesting our transcripts?” She gives her patented head tilt but then realizes that neither of these men will buy her ‘ditzy blonde’ act. 

 

“No? And what did you do,” she turns a piercing gaze to Sacks, “to piss off Vinnie and have to work Thanksgiving weekend?”

 

He looks down, ashamed, and she knows she hit a nerve but he says evenly, “Sheriff Van Lowe and I get along fine, Veronica. Don’t make me call him. Now, what are you doing here?”

 

“Actually,” She arches a brow and glances over at Logan, “we’d love to talk to the illustrious Sheriff.”

 

——

 

“I can’t believe you dragged me out of the bosom of my family for this.” Sheriff Van Lowe gestures disgustedly at Veronica and Logan as he ambles into Clemmons’ office. He shoots Sacks a glare but the deputy merely shrugs. 

 

Principal Clemmons has switched from exasperation to what Veronica suspects is a protective instinct. He lobbied hard against calling Vinnie and stressed repeatedly that the school district didn’t want to press charges. He sits adjacent to Veronica and Logan on his narrow couch. Vinnie throws himself into Clemmons’ chair behind the desk and lounges but removes his feet from the desktop at Clemmons’ stern look. His new-found respectability as Sheriff has apparently not affected his wardrobe—his off duty look is still very much Members Only meets Miami Vice. 

 

Sacks leans against the doorframe because five people is a tight fit in Clemmons’ office. The periodic uptick of his top lip indicates he’s enjoying himself immensely, but Sacks is too professional to give away more than that.   _ He’s got to be a formidable opponent on poker night _ , Veronica thinks offhand. 

 

Logan reprises his Bad Boy role seamlessly and smirks, tapping his fingers against his leg. She knows he’s not nervous but is merely trying to annoy them.  He’s such a perfect sidekick; doing just what she needs him to without her having to ask.  Every now and then he shoots her smoldering looks, but Veronica fixes her gaze on Vinnie so as not to get distracted by the levels of hotness currently oozing out of him. 

 

“So. Mars.” Vinnie leans back in his chair but thinks better of it at Clemmons’ pointed look. He sits up and primly folds his hands on the desktop.  “What has inspired this night of crime?”

 

Logan snorts, but before he can retort, Veronica lays her hand on his thigh and turns a glittering smile on Vinnie. 

 

“I was looking for some information. On Jennifer Villarreal and Declan MacDonald.” Now it’s her turn to lean back, fixing him with a smug look and lacing her fingers together, mocking his pose. 

 

Vinnie sits up straighter now, alert. 

 

“What do you want to know about them?”

 

“Well, it’s just interesting, isn’t it? Your daughter,” she sneaks a look at Clemmons but this information obviously isn’t new to him, “and a member of the Fitzpatrick family. What a tangled web, Vinnie.” She tsks at him with her tongue. 

 

“How’d you find out?” the Sheriff whispers, serious now. 

 

Veronica tilts her head. “That she's your daughter or that they are a couple?” She doesn’t wait for an answer. “I followed you, actually, because of some suspicious newspaper headlines.” She raises her eyebrows questioningly. “So what’s going on? Spill, Vinnie. Confession is good for the soul.”

 

He reverts back to his normal state of casual disinterest. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, V. Mars. I have a daughter. She has a boyfriend. No big deal.”

 

Veronica leans forward. “I think it is a big deal, Vinnie. Why are you following them?”

 

He scoffs. “Don’t tell me your dad has never tailed this one.” He waves his hand in Logan’s direction dismissively. Logan gives him a wide predatory smile, showing his teeth like a feral cat and tossing a wink at her. The rush of desire she feels watching him should be off-putting...but it’s not. She gives in to it and grins at him. 

 

Turning back to Vinnie, “Yeah, but you’re tailing Jennifer, too. What’s going on, Vinnie?” From her surveillance bugs, she’s seen his car parked in front of the Villarreal house for hours; she knows it’s not just the boyfriend he’s tracking. 

 

She can see when the lightbulb goes off in his brain. “Your Italian restaurant date the other night. Not so spontaneous, eh, V?” 

 

Veronica waves away his question and presses for more information about Jennifer. “Why are you following your own daughter?” 

 

He bluffs. “Just making sure she’s okay.”

 

“You worried?” Logan asks with a sardonic raise of an eyebrow. 

 

Veronica turns to Logan conversationally. “I wonder how Ms. Villarreal feels about everything. It would be a shame if I called her up, shared everything I know about Vinnie and the Fitzpatricks and how it’s impacting her daughter.” She raises her eyebrows once at him in challenge. 

 

“Debra? You wouldn’t.” Vinnie whispers. 

 

She nods. “I would. And your sainted mother, too.”

 

Vinnie doesn’t answer, just stares steadily at Veronica. Finally, he leaps out of the chair and barks, pointing at her. “Okay, everybody out but V. I need to speak with her privately.” 

 

He looks like he wants to pace around the office but there isn’t room in the small space. He settles for throwing himself back in the chair dramatically. 

 

She should feel insulted, but really, it’s touching how all the men in the room want to protect her. Not like she can let them know that, though. Clemmons, Sacks, and Logan all begin to protest at the same time. 

 

“Gentlemen,” She cuts them off. “It’s fine. Sheriff Van Lowe is here to serve and protect. Obviously.” She meets Vinnie’s eyes in a hard stare. “But Logan stays.” She flips her ponytail over her shoulder and shrugs, unrepentant. “I’m going to tell him everything anyway.” 

 

Vinnie gives a curt nod and Clemmons stands, turning to look down at her. 

 

“Veronica, are you sure?” His voice is low and quiet, concerned. 

 

“Thanks, Mr. C., but we’re fine.” She gives him a reassuring smile. 

 

Clemmons and Sacks move to the outer office, closing the door behind them, and the sound of the latch clicking shut reverberates in the small space. She stares at the inspirational eagle poster above Clemmons’ desk and waits for Vinnie to begin. 

 

Finally, he sighs. “All right, Veronica, how much do you know?”

 

Her eyes glitter. “I know enough.”

 

Vinnie shakes his head. “Nuh-uh. I know all your tricks, V. Think I’m gonna spill more than you already know if you’re vague? I don’t think so.”

 

She sighs deeply. “Okay, Vinnie. Here’s what I know: the Fitzpatricks got you elected and now guns that were collected by you,” she points at him, “are turning up where they aren’t supposed to be. I don’t know what your daughter has to do with it, but it can’t be a coincidence that she’s dating a Fitzpatrick.” 

 

Veronica arches a brow and waits for his reply. 

 

Vinnie plants his elbows on the desk and buries his face in his hands. 

 

“It’s not a coincidence.” His words are mumbled and when he lifts his head she can see genuine distress in his eyes. “Jenny and I, well, we don’t see much of each other. It seemed safest to keep her away, but then it was easier to keep an eye on her if she was here…” he trails off, his eyes darting around Clemmons’ office like a scared rabbit. 

 

Vinnie’s not making sense anymore and Veronica doesn’t know what he means. 

 

“Keep her safe, how, Vinnie? Safe from who?” Her voice is low and kind. 

 

He meets her eyes. “It wasn’t a big deal at first. Just little favors for powerful friends. Some bad luck at cards. But then they started demanding more and more... and they found out about my alimony checks, traced the payments to Debra.” 

 

He swallows and speaks softly, tracing imaginary patterns with his index finger on the scarred wooden desktop. “They threatened Jenny. I convinced her and her mom to move here so I could have the deputies help keep an eye on her.”

 

Logan snorts. “You’re an idiot. Why didn’t you move her across the country, Vinnie? Get her as far away from them as possible?” 

 

His skeptical disdain seems to snap the sheriff out of his uncharacteristic moment of emotion. 

 

“Like we can all afford that, Echolls?” Vinnie retorts with his usual blend of smarm and sarcasm. 

 

Veronica sighs internally, glad to have Vinnie back to normal. She’s not sure she can stomach feeling compassion for him. 

 

He continues lecturing Logan, “Not everyone has a trust fund like you or the Kane kid so they can flee the country at a moment’s notice.”

 

She shoots him a look and a subtle head shake. Logan has never asked about her involvement in Duncan’s disappearance; she’d rather not have to lie to him now. 

 

Vinnie heaves a dramatic sigh. “So yes, my plan backfired a little bit but I moved them here. The deputy presence was perhaps not subtle because within weeks, she was dating this Fitzpatrick stooge,” he gestures at Declan’s file, lying open on Clemmons’ desk, “and Liam tells me the kid’s keeping tabs on her, that he’ll hurt her if I don’t cooperate.”

 

“Did you talk to her about it? Try to warn her?” Veronica tries to keep her tone from becoming judgmental as she questions Vinnie but he gestures between her and Logan. 

 

“Bad boys, right, V? Your daddy warn you to stay away from this one? Did it work? Or did it just make you want him more?”

 

She looks down at her hands twisted tightly in her lap, blushing. She can feel Logan staring at her but she refuses to make eye contact with either of them. 

 

“That’s what I thought.” Vinnie’s smug tone fades quickly and he turns despondent again. “So I’m stuck.”

 

“And the gun buyback program?”

 

He shrugs. “I didn’t ask too many questions.”

 

“The private donor?”

 

He nods curtly. “Saint Mary’s Benevolence Fund.”

 

Logan swears under his breath. “Funneling money through the church? That’s low.”

 

Vinnie shrugs again. “The paper trail is vast and twisty, but, yeah.” 

 

He props his feet up on the principal’s desk, only getting away with it because Clemmons is out of the room, and leans back in his chair with his hands behind his head. “The only reason I’m telling you this, V. Mars, is because I could use your help. My office is probably bugged”—Veronica gulps, feeling a twinge of guilt—“but I doubt this one is.”

 

Has she ever bugged Clemmons’ office? She doesn’t think so. The guidance counselor’s across the hall, though, is a different story. She squashes those thoughts and meets Vinnie’s eyes. He sits up, suddenly serious. 

 

“Will you help me, Veronica?”

 

She glances over at Logan, who’s been uncharacteristically silent for most of this exchange. He raises his eyebrows, as if saying that she can do whatever she wants, he’s in either way. 

 

She nods once at Vinnie, decisively, and holds out her hand for him to shake over the desk. 

 

“Just to warn you, I’m expensive.” She narrows her eyes at him. 

 

He groans and puts his head down on the desk. “Great. Whatever I’m not paying the Fitzpatricks is gonna go to you.” 

 

“Oh, no, it’s worse than that, Vinnie.” She stands and Logan hurries to follow. 

 

Vinnie looks up at her, questioningly. 

 

“I’ll charge you expenses, of course, but I have a feeling this’ll cost you your job.”

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Heavenli24 and Marshmallow Bobcat for their help with this one, and to Lymelight for the reminder about Vinnie's mom :) That reference is just for you!


	9. Chapter 9

The door to the dimly-lit Hearst library opens, bathing the wood-paneled walls in a shaft of sunlight as Logan enters, sauntering over to the help desk where Veronica sits. She’s spent the last hour answering asinine questions from freshmen while trying to sort through a stack of returned books that the late-shift conveniently ‘forgot’ to take care of last night. Well, and working on her case, too, when no one’s looking.

 

“Why, hello, Madam Librarian,” Logan drawls. 

 

Veronica’s grumpy mood lifts as she looks him up and down. He’s wearing her favorite maroon and grey baseball-style shirt, and his frayed jeans complete the ‘college student’ look. She doesn’t want to know how much his artfully ripped pants cost, but he looks delectable in them, so it was probably worth it. Fleetingly, she wonders where Logan buys his clothes and whether this is the sort of girlfriend thing she should know. And if normal girlfriends engage in petty stalking to find out, or if they just ask.

 

She shakes off her thoughts and gives him a bright smile. 

 

“Are you in need of help?” She taps the sign on the top of her library station. 

 

“The kind only you can provide.” He gives her a lascivious grin, which earns him an eye roll in return. 

 

He drops his backpack and moves around behind her tall chair, peering over her shoulder at her laptop screen and resting his chin in the crook of her neck so he can see. 

 

“Whatcha doing?”

 

She tilts the screen to give him a better angle. “Just checking on Vinnie, although I’m not sure why. I don’t think it matters anymore since he hired us. I should take the tracker off his car.” 

 

“It could still come in handy, though” He’s philosophical. “Speaking of, what are our next moves?” 

 

Logan begins to knead her shoulders and it feels amazing. His long fingers work out her tension and she lets her head lull to one side, momentarily distracted. 

 

“Mmm. You should keep doing that. Indefinitely.” Her voice sounds breathy, but she doesn’t even care. 

 

She wishes she wasn’t wearing her jacket...actually Logan’s fingers make her wish she was wearing a lot less than her jacket. She clears her throat once she realizes the direction her thoughts are taking, and comes back to the moment. 

 

“Thanks.” She rolls her neck and moves away from his distracting hands, turning in her chair to face him. He looks disappointed but not surprised. “So. Yeah. Next steps. I’ve been thinking…” 

 

“Uh-oh. Why do I get the feeling that I’m not going to like this?” He narrows his eyes in suspicion.

 

Veronica winds her arms around his neck and pulls him closer so that he’s standing between her legs. The tall help desk chair is the perfect height so she can meet his eyes. 

 

“I’ve been thinking about Declan.” 

 

Logan sighs. “Yes, dear, please tell me all about the other men clouding your thoughts.”

 

“Not like that!” She slaps him playfully and then returns her arms to his shoulders. He rolls his eyes, but places his hands on her waist and schools his features into a serious expression, ready to listen to her. 

 

“I just, there was something about the way he looked at Jennifer at the restaurant…” she pauses, thoughtful. “He could be an excellent actor, but...I don’t know. I want to get a closer look at their relationship.”

 

He groans. “That sounds way naughtier than it’s gonna be, I’m sure.” 

 

He tilts his head back to stare at the high ceiling in the library. After a moment of introspection, possibly imploring the ceiling for patience, he looks back at Veronica. 

 

“What did you have in mind, Pumpkin?”

 

——

 

“I still can’t believe you think this is gonna work,” Logan says without preamble, after helping her into the passenger side of his SUV. He starts driving toward their destination anyway, so Veronica takes that as a good sign as she settles her messenger bag at her feet. 

 

Veronica glances over at Logan. The sleeves of his snug, black button-up are rolled up, showcasing his tantalizing forearms, and his long fingers curl around the steering wheel. She huffs at his lack of faith and crosses her arms under her chest. Logan looks over at her with a leer, and she realizes she’s giving him an eyeful of cleavage in her little black dress. She uncrosses her arms and narrows her eyes at him.

 

“Of course it will work. Vinnie called Van; we know Jennifer and Declan are going to be at the dance tonight and Mr. C put us on the approved list. We can blend in and maybe even interact with the couple in question.” 

 

“Ronnie," he says in the voice that sets her teeth on edge, like he’s explaining something to a particularly stubborn three year-old. “We won’t blend. We’re both too notorious for that and college students don’t crash high school dances.” He cuts her off as she starts to protest. “No one will buy me as a chaperone, either, so don’t even bother to suggest it.” 

 

Veronica wants to stay mad at him for doubting her plan, but the idea of Logan Echolls chaperoning a high school dance is nothing short of hilarious and she can’t help the giggle that escapes at the thought. At Logan’s amused look, she quickly sobers, getting back to the topic at hand.

 

“Look. I just want to observe them a little bit, maybe bump into Jennifer in the bathroom. We won’t stay long, I promise.” She scoots closer to the center console and puts her hand on his forearm. “This is totally the kind of high school dance that will get you some action tonight.”

 

She winks and Logan sits up straighter in his seat, obviously intrigued by the idea.

 

It’s been more than a year since they were Neptune students and he may have a different car now, but Veronica has to laugh when Logan parks in the same spot he used to in high school. Some habits are harder to break than others, she supposes. 

 

Even though she knows he’s not thrilled about this, he still spins out of the car and skips over to open the door for her. He is such a hopeless romantic. She better not let on that he’s utterly adorable. He holds out his arm and she tucks her hand into the crook of his elbow as she exits his car.

 

“You know,” she muses, “this actually might be our first high school dance together.”

 

“Sophomore year homecoming?” 

 

“Doesn’t count. We didn’t actually go to the dance.”

 

“Wait, what about senior year homecoming? I distinctly remember a very jealous Veronica pulling a girl off me.” He smirks at her as she blushes. Thankfully the light in the parking lot is dim and helps hide her flush. 

 

“She deserved it.”

 

“What about Sadie Hawkins?” He adopts a fake-dreamy voice. “We slow danced. It was the pinnacle of high school romance.”

 

She waves that one away, too. “But you weren’t my date.”

 

“Only because you didn’t ask.” He plants a quick kiss on the top of her head as they continue to walk toward the building. 

 

As Clemmons promised, they’re on the approved visitor list. After checking in with their IDs at the front door, they make their way toward the gymnasium, only to be halted in the hallway by the aforementioned Principal, looking irritated. 

 

“Ms. Mars.” He doesn’t even acknowledge Logan, and she appreciates that everyone knows she calls the shots. 

 

Clemmons continues, bending his head down to speak with Veronica. “I don’t approve of this. I don’t know what’s going on—”

 

She cuts him off and places a hand on his forearm. “Mr. C, I’m just trying to make sure that Jennifer’s okay, that she doesn’t get caught in the crossfire of her dad’s job.”

 

She doesn’t have to say any more for Clemmons to clearly remember what it was like for her in high school as the Sheriff’s daughter when her dad’s job fell apart. He might be a cynic but his eyes fill with compassion. 

 

He glances between her and Logan. “I try to avoid high school drama...but this particular Romeo and Juliet…” He jerks his thumb in the direction of the gym behind him. “Well, Declan used to be a frequent visitor to my office.” He turns to Logan with a steely stare, remembering their many encounters there, she's sure. “But he’s stayed out of trouble lately. I don’t want to overstep, but...keep an eye on him, too.”

 

“I will,” Logan says with a firm nod, and Veronica suspects he feels something of an affinity for Declan. 

 

“And Ms. Mars,” The exasperated tone she’s accustomed to is back in his voice. “Please don’t cause trouble tonight.” 

 

He massages his forehead, like that will help fend off the impending headache that high school drama and loud music are sure to bring. 

 

“Me?” Veronica gives him her cockiest half-smile. “Never!”

 

If anything, that increases the panicked look on Clemmons’ face. 

 

She grabs Logan’s hand and pulls him towards the gym. Turning back to face Clemmons, she points to Logan and tosses out, “No fights, no drinking,” before pointing to herself and adding, “no bomb threats, election tampering scandals, or missing cash boxes. What could go wrong?” 

 

She shoots him a cheeky wink and opens the heavy door, flooding the hallway with loud music. As they enter the gym, they’re assaulted by glitter and a thumping baseline and Veronica turns to Logan with a grimace.

 

“Let’s do a lap, see if we can spot our happy couple.” Veronica stands on her tiptoes and speaks loudly into Logan’s ear to be heard over the music. He nods and entwines their fingers together, leading the way around the perimeter of the gymnasium. 

 

Veronica can’t tell what the theme of this dance is, besides tacky sparkles. It’s not like it matters; it’s pretty much impossible to make a gymnasium look like anything else, but student councils everywhere persist in trying. 

 

Logan stops suddenly and tugs on her hand, pulling her in front of him. To anyone else, it would look like a romantic embrace, but really, it’s just an excuse to maneuver her sight line and whisper in her ear.  _ He really is a handy investigation partner.  _

 

“I think that’s your girl over there, at ten o’clock.”

 

Veronica glances over to see Jennifer pulling Declan onto the dance floor. She seems in her element, living out her teenage dream in a sparkling, lavender, satin dress. Declan, on the other hand, looks uncomfortable in khakis, a button-down and scuffed shoes—he obviously doesn’t dress up often—but Jennifer seems oblivious to his discomfort. Veronica feels a pang of regret; this girl’s world could come crashing down at any moment. But while she’s usually of the opinion that everyone deserves the unvarnished truth, as she watches Jennifer dancing, so happy and carefree, she’s loath to ruin the girl’s illusions. For once, her pursuit of justice has lost some of its appeal. 

 

Logan’s hands tighten on her waist, bringing her back to the moment, and she looks up at him, grateful for his anchoring presence. She gives him a dazzling smile and pushes up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. He smiles down at her, obviously enjoying her affection. His hands slide down over the satin material of her dress and Veronica shivers at the feel of it against her skin—there’s a reason this is her favorite dress. 

 

They watch Jennifer from a distance, until she and her girlfriends break away from their dates and head for the bathroom.

 

“Showtime,” Veronica nods in their direction. “Keep an eye on Declan.”

 

She unwraps herself from Logan’s arms, and he nods, shoving his hands into the pockets of his grey fitted dress slacks as she casually saunters after the girls. 

 

The bathroom is packed with giggling girls. It’s practically wall-to-wall satin and tulle and smells overwhelmingly like hairspray and perfume. Which, Veronica supposes, is a far cry better than what the boys’ bathroom probably smells like. Still, it’s a lot of estrogen to wade through as she fights to get a spot near the mirror. Veronica digs her lip gloss from the pocket of her dress, so she can blend in as she looks for Jennifer. 

 

As she touches up her lip gloss, Jennifer stumbles out of one of the bathroom stalls, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling. For a moment, Veronica worries that she’s drunk or drugged but her eyes are clear as she rejoins her friends, cursing the impossibly-high heels she’s wearing, and Veronica tells herself she’s being overly paranoid.

 

She eavesdrops as Jennifer and her friends gush about their dates, their dresses, and their plans for after the dance; apparently there’s an 09er party on the beach. One thing she hasn’t been able to figure out is which social circle Jennifer fits into—modest house, Sheriff’s daughter, she could be in the miniscule Neptune middle class. But Declan is clearly an 02er, and Veronica can’t get a read on this group of girlfriends. Some of the girls are wearing designer dresses, but they don’t seem to be drawing attention to that fact, so maybe Neptune High is less economically segregated than it used to be. 

 

She snorts to herself.  _ Yeah, right. _

 

“So, Jen, how’s your date?” one of the girls who’s definitely sporting a designer dress and shoes asks haughtily from across the room. 

 

She looks like this class’s incarnation of Madison Sinclair and Veronica squeezes her way to the mirror by Jen with a small smile as she smooths her hands over her sleek chignon and pretends like she’s supposed to be there. 

 

Jennifer tosses her long brown hair behind one shoulder confidently. 

 

“He’s great, Callie, thanks for asking.” Her tone is dismissive and Veronica feels an odd stab of pride that this girl won’t let Callie Whoever-She-Is get the best of her. 

 

Callie pats her hair and sneers and Veronica blinks, suddenly seeing a younger version of Caitlin Ford standing in front of her. This girl has to be her sister. 

 

“Have fun slumming it tonight. Better check his sheets first, though, make sure you don’t bring home lice.”

 

“You’d know all about dirty sheets, wouldn’t you, Callie?” Jennifer mutters to the mirror. 

 

The bathroom goes silent in the face of this standoff, but after a tense pause, Jennifer’s friends start to giggle, and Callie’s entourage gasps in outrage. 

 

“What did you say?” Callie rages, turning away from the mirror to glare at Jennifer. 

 

Jennifer just shrugs smugly. “I’ve heard things. Hope you’re enjoying my castoffs tonight.”

 

Callie’s face turns an unattractive shade of puce. “Seth Haldeman is nobody’s cast off!” 

 

“Oh, he didn’t tell you?” Jennifer turns her calculating brown eyes on Callie now. “He asked me first, but I turned him down.”

 

Callie shrieks with rage and Veronica worries that she’s going to have to break up a cat fight—and after her promise to Mr. C and everything—but instead of lunging for Jennifer, Callie turns on her four-inch heels and storms out of the bathroom, her baby-blue dress swirling around her. Most of the other girls trickle out after her, leaving Jennifer and her three friends in front of the mirror. 

 

“Wow.” Veronica meets Jennifer’s eyes in the mirror. “She seems lovely.”

 

One of Jennifer’s friends cackles with delight at Veronica’s sarcasm. 

 

“Yeah, she’s great,” Jennifer jokes. She turns to look at Veronica and holds out her hand. “I’m Jen. I’m new this year and I don’t know everyone yet.” 

 

Jennifer pauses and waits for Veronica to introduce herself. She shakes Jen’s hand and thinks fast. 

 

“I’m Ronnie.” It’s not her favorite nickname or alias, but too many people know her here for her to get away with a completely different name. “I don’t go to Neptune but my boyfriend…” she pauses and waves her hand, “is here.” 

 

Jen nods as if that makes sense. _ Well, it’s not exactly a lie.  _

 

“Are you enjoying your first Neptune dance?”

 

“Um.” Veronica giggles. “I’m more excited about our plans for after. He said something about a party?”

 

“Oh, yeah,” another one of Jen’s friends, a curvy blonde girl in a pale pink dress that makes her look like a cherub, jumps in. “On Crescent Beach. It should be great.”

 

“Maybe we’ll see you there?” Jen asks as she and her friends check their hair one last time and head for the exit. 

 

Veronica nods enthusiastically and gives a little wave as the girls file out of the bathroom. 

 

She takes a deep breath and enjoys the relative silence—at least in the bathroom the pounding music is slightly muted—as she figures out how to tell Logan that the after-party ideas he had in mind are vastly different from what they will actually be doing tonight. 

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up, I’m taking next week off from this story since it’s LV AU week. Don’t worry, it will be back in two weeks and I have some little AU things to post in the meantime :)


	10. Chapter 10

“I bet you’ve never crashed an 09er party before! Think about that! Something new for your bucket list.” Veronica pushes Logan playfully on the shoulder as they exit his car and start walking towards the beach. 

 

“I’ve never had to crash one before, Ronnie. I’ve always hosted them.” He rubs his shoulder, faux-wounded. “It wasn’t actually a goal of mine. At least,” he pretends to think, “I don’t remember seeing it in my day planner.”

 

“Well, it should have been.” She’s traipsing barefoot across the sand to the bonfire, having kicked off her shoes in the car, while Logan is wearing a pair of flip-flops he found in the trunk. The flip-flops should look ridiculous with his dress pants, but somehow they don’t. He rubs the back of his neck, hesitating, then shoves his hands in his pockets, shoulders tense and hunched. 

 

She grabs his hand and smiles at him. “Don’t act so uncomfortable. The secret to crashing a party is looking like you belong.”

 

“So, where does your dad think you are tonight?” There’s a sarcastic bite to his tone, which makes Veronica frown. 

 

Logan must be more pissed than she realized to bring up her dad. She drops his hand and hurries forward so she doesn’t have to walk next to him, but she miscalculates how much longer his legs are than hers and in three strides he’s caught back up to her. His hand encircles her upper arm lightly and pulls her to a stop. 

 

“Veronica.” 

 

He tugs her around so that she’s facing him and tilts her chin up, forcing her to meet his eyes. The light from the bonfire is reflected in them and she sees   a vulnerability in his expression, one that hints that he’s still feeling insecure about his place in her life. She takes a deep breath and resolves not to run. 

 

“I’m sorry,” Logan blurts out. “It’s just—”

 

“Yeah,” She cuts him off, looking at his chest. “Can we talk about it later?”

 

He nods woodenly and she’s struck with the realization that she’s known Logan long enough that he can tell when she’s lying and has no intention of discussing something ‘later.’ He doesn’t fight her on it, though, doesn’t push her, and that more than anything helps her see that she’s been treating him like a sidekick and not her boyfriend. 

 

She sighs. “Look, I’m sorry. I know I haven’t really been fair to you lately. I just don’t know how to handle things with my dad and—”

 

She’s not able to finish her sentence, though, because she finds herself pulled into a tight hug, her face crushed against Logan’s chest. Judging by this reaction, she apparently she doesn’t apologize often enough. She vows to be a better girlfriend to Logan, somehow, and not lose him from her life again. She knows she’s miserable without him but she can’t figure out how to keep both him and her dad happy. 

 

He relaxes his hold on her and lifts her chin, lowering his head to gently brush his lips against hers. It’s a tender kiss, full of apologies given and accepted, and while she might not always have the words to say how she’s feeling, she tries to pour it all into the physical connection that she knows is so important to him. 

 

The kiss deepens, as she opens her mouth and his tongue slides inside to twine around hers. It speaks now of promises to come and Veronica feels arousal begin to throb low in her belly. Logan’s hands cup her face, while hers press against his back, trying to bring him as close to her as possible. 

 

When she finally pulls away, panting slightly, she can see lust and amusement mixed in his eyes. 

 

“What? What’s so funny?” Her voice is breathier than she would have liked and it brings a smirk to Logan’s face. 

 

“Nothing,” he mumbles, stroking his thumb along her jawline. “We just seem to be blending into the high school crowd a little too well—a fight and a public make-out on the beach.”

 

“This is more normal than we ever were in high school, Muffin.” With a wink, she links her arm through his and leads them over to the bonfire. 

 

“So who do you think’s hosting this shindig, if not Logan Echolls?” Veronica asks him. They are around the outskirts of the crowd by the fire and Logan has planted himself behind her with his hands around her waist. 

 

He leans down to speak into her ear and his breath sends shivers of pleasure down her spine. “My money’s on that crowd.” 

 

He nods across the fire to a cluster of boys who are clearly the newest inception of 09er royalty. 

 

“Do you know any of them?” She stretches up to whisper her question in his ear and brushes a kiss across his cheek, not having to work too hard to sell the illusion of intimacy between them. 

 

He nods his head. “I think so. That’s John Embom’s sister, Kayla, with Luke Haldeman’s younger brother.”

 

“Seth,” she breathes, “plus Callie Ford is probably over there somewhere, too.”

 

“What’s our cover story, Veronica?” He pretends to nuzzle her neck, but the barest brush of his lips against her sensitive skin, intentional or not, sends a bolt of desire straight through her. She tightens her hold on his arms to stay focused. 

 

She shakes her head but smiles up at him. “No need. If they were sober, they might question why us college kids want to party with them, but they’re so wasted, they won’t even notice.”

 

He nods and nuzzles her neck again just for fun. 

 

“Mmm.” She angles her head sharply, forcing him to stop because that feels way too good. “Have you seen our favorite couple?”

 

“Ronnie! Hey!” She hears from behind and turns to see Jennifer, Declan, and their group of friends approach. 

 

She grabs Logan’s hand and plasters a smile on her face, hoping he plays along, although she can tell she’s probably pushed him too far tonight. 

 

“Hey, Jen! Great to see you again. This is my boyfriend,” she gestures at Logan, but avoids using his name. He waves. 

 

“I didn’t catch everyone’s name earlier?” she asks, eyeing the rest of Jenn’s group. 

 

“Ashley, Sarah, and Kayla,” she points to her girlfriends, “and this is Declan.” 

 

She gazes adoringly up at her boyfriend. While he has exchanged his dress clothes for ratty jeans and a faded t-shirt, he still looks ridiculously uncomfortable. His eyes shift to acknowledge them and then he goes back to staring at the sand. Jen doesn’t seem to notice. 

 

“Come hang with us.” Jen nods to Veronica and Logan as she makes her way over to a group of lawn chairs by the fire, tugging on Declan’s hand and pulling him with her. Logan, Veronica, and her friends follow. Veronica perches on Logan’s lap while Jen sends one of her girlfriends, the curvy blonde girl from the bathroom earlier—Ashley, she thinks—to find them refreshments. 

 

The girl quickly returns carrying enough red solo cups for everyone, helped by a tall, gangly boy wearing a letter jacket. Veronica pretends to sip hers before setting it in the sand, intending to ‘accidentally’ spill it soon. 

 

Aside from some salacious gossip about Neptune students they don’t know, Veronica doesn’t learn much from Jen and her friends. 

 

While Declan was uncomfortable at first, as Jen sits on his lap and chats with her friends, he seems to relax and even starts to make conversation with Logan and the other guys. Veronica begins to suspect that he’s more uncomfortable with the social disparity between himself and the 09ers than the role he is supposedly playing with Jen. As Jen interacts with him all night, he finds little ways to touch her. He holds her hand, rubs her back gently, or kisses her cheek. Honestly, it reminds Veronica of the way Logan treats her, and while she knows affection can be faked, Declan’s expression is soft as Jen plays with his fingers and talks with her friends. 

 

Another bad boy tamed by love? Perhaps. It’s certainly worth questioning him. Vinnie made him out to be a villain, Clemmons, too, for that matter, but he seems pretty quiet and non-threatening. 

 

After a while, all the girls traipse across the beach to use the bathrooms near the parking lot. Veronica declines the offer to join them, and settles herself more comfortably in Logan’s lap. She turns swiftly to Declan, pouncing on the opportunity to question him alone. 

 

“So. Are you just dating Jennifer so your uncle Liam can threaten her?” 

 

Declan has just taken a sip of his beer and he sputters, coughing. 

 

“What the hell?” His voice is hoarse. He sets the cup down on the ground and Veronica can see that his hands are shaking. 

 

“Dude, we know all about it.” Logan shifts in the chair and turns to Declan, and his gaze turns from friendly to cold as he eyes the other boy. His hand spans Veronica’s lower back, anchoring her, reminding her of his support. 

 

“How did you…?” Declan trails off as he stares back and forth between them, dumbfounded. He tugs on the collar of his t-shirt nervously and shuffles his feet in the sand. 

 

“Don’t bother denying it. We know you have friends in low places,” Veronica raises her eyebrows, “but there are people looking out for Jennifer, as well.”

 

“Stringing a girl along like that to threaten her? That’s an asshole move.” Logan cuts in, flexing his fingers purposefully before clenching them in a fist. He glances down and Veronica knows he’s thinking of Hannah. She squeezes his knee briefly but doesn’t take her eyes off her interrogation victim. 

 

Declan leans forward with his elbows on his knees and covers his face with his hands. He mumbles something that she can’t make out. 

 

“You’re going to have to do better than that, Declan.” Veronica’s voice is harsh and low as she crosses her arms over her chest and glares at him. 

 

He looks up and smooths his hands over his black hair. 

 

“Look, it’s not like that,” he says quietly, looking around, trying to make sure they are not being overheard. 

 

“What’s it like, then?” Veronica spits at him. 

 

He sighs. 

 

“Okay, maybe it kinda started like that. My uncle, uh, suggested that it would be in my best interest if I befriended Jen and took her out.” He stares down at his hands, clasped together between his knees. “But yeah, I really like her. I don’t want anything bad to happen to her.”

 

Veronica raises a skeptical eyebrow. “I’m not sure your uncle feels the same way.”

 

“I know.” He rests his head in his hands again and when he raises it to look back at Veronica and Logan again, his eyes are distressed. “I, uh, know what they do. My family. I don’t want to be like that. I just don’t know what to do.” 

 

Veronica glances at Logan, raising her eyebrows in an unspoken question.  _ Can we trust him? _ He gives her a pointed look in return, one that conveys he wants to help him. 

 

She smooths down the bodice of her black dress and turns back to Declan. “If we can promise to keep your uncle from finding out, are you willing to protect her? Are you willing to lie to your family?” 

 

He nods and she can see the resolve in his eyes. 

 

“Jen…” he seems to be searching for the words, “she doesn’t believe, well—I want to be a better person when I’m around her.” 

 

Veronica feels Logan relax slightly underneath her. He’s pretty good at reading people and if his bullshit detector isn’t going off then she trusts that this kid is the real deal. She pulls a disposable cell phone from her dress pocket and tosses it to him. 

 

“Untraceable. My number’s in there. So’s his.” She jerks her thumb at Logan. “We’ll be in touch.”

 

She stands, brushing off her dress. “Make our excuses to the girls for us.” 

 

She holds out her hand to Logan and he extricates himself from the lawn chair and follows her back across the beach to his car. The sound of the surf is soothing and she lets herself lean into him as he throws his arm around her shoulders. 

 

She’s enjoyed having Logan with her tonight. Not because she needs him as her backup or for protection but because he’s actually pretty good at this stuff. She doesn’t want to need anyone, but she’s surprised to find herself in a situation where she actually wants a partner. More than just someone to trade favors with, but someone that she can work together with. It’s been a long time since she’s felt this way—has she ever felt this way? She quickly shakes off the introspective thought, not wanting to dive too deep into it tonight. 

 

“Wanna hit an after-after party?” She hip checks him playfully and smiles up at him. 

 

“What did you have in mind?” He raises an eyebrow, hope and desire etched across his features. 

 

“Your hot tub, maybe?” Her suggestion is coy and she dances away from him, daring him to chase her. 

 

Logan, never one to disappoint, catches her around the waist and swings her around, feet and sand flying. 

 

She laughs and wraps her arms around his neck, kissing his lips. 

 

“I take it that’s a yes?” she pulls back to ask.

 

“Most definitely, Bobcat.”


	11. Chapter 11

Veronica lets herself into the apartment the next morning as quietly as possible, trying not to rattle her keys. At least she’s no longer wearing her little black dress for this particular walk of shame—although yoga pants and Logan’s t-shirt still paint a vivid picture of what she’s been doing lately. 

 

She tiptoes through the living room, considering the lie she’s going to spin if she gets caught. Her dad’s room is empty, though, the bed still made, and a quick glance at her watch confirms that it’s too early for her dad to have left for work, especially on a Saturday. 

 

It looks like she’s not the only one who didn’t sleep at home last night. Instead of feeling relieved to have avoided a lecture, she’s angry at his hypocrisy. She reminds herself that her dad is an adult and shakes it off, before changing into pajamas and crawling into bed, because after all, it’s a Saturday and it’s still early. 

 

——

 

Hours later, the sound of her dad letting himself into their apartment wakes her up. She sits up and stretches as he sticks his head in her open doorway. 

 

“Hiya, Pops.” She yawns and tries to smooth down her hair. The pink plaid pajama pants and grey thermal shirt that she changed into hopefully reinforce the idea that she’s been there all night. 

 

He comes in and places a quick kiss on the top of her head. “Good morning.”

 

He gives her a wide smile, which used to bring her delight but for some reason, her stomach clenches and all she feels is anxiety over the fact that she’s not being honest with him about her relationship with Logan. She plasters a happy look on her face anyway. 

 

“I’m glad I caught you at home, Veronica.” Her dad sits on the edge of her bed, practically vibrating with excitement. 

 

She raises her eyebrows, silently asking where else she would be—and debates about asking where he was—but she’s not surprised when Keith ignores that and continues talking. 

 

“I have some really great news for you, honey.” 

 

He grabs her hands and for a moment, she panics that this is about Harmony, that he’s telling her they are getting married or something. She gulps and tries to school her features. 

 

“Stanford. Stanford, baby!”

 

This is so far removed from what she’s expecting that she doesn’t understand what he’s talking about. She gives him a blank look. 

 

“You got in!” He is jubilant and jumps up, dancing around her room to music only he hears. 

 

“Dad. I didn’t apply to Stanford.” She stands up and forces a laugh. “What are you talking about?”

 

He stops dancing and looks at her earnestly. “I probably should have told you... I really meant to before you left, and then after you got back, and then things just got so crazy—”

 

Veronica puts her hands on his shoulders, halting his rambling. “You’re not making any sense! Dad, what’s going on?”

 

He sinks down onto her bed and pats the space next to him. Veronica perches on the edge of the mattress, her eyes never leaving his face. 

 

“I deferred your acceptance to Stanford last year.” His voice is quiet, serious. “I hadn’t heard anything in a while, I guess their admissions were full. But they just called me—numbers have dropped for second semester and they have a spot open for you if you want it!”

 

He crushes her to his chest in a proud hug and mutters, “Stanford,” again in awe. 

 

Veronica pulls away, still reeling from his news. “But, Dad—”

 

He cuts her off. “I know you’re going to balk at the cost, but we’ll take out loans, Veronica. It’s not a big deal.”

 

She huffs a cynical laugh. “Yeah, it’s a pretty huge deal. It’s not worth it, not when Hearst is just fine. And I don’t want—”

 

“Veronica, I want better for you than ‘fine’!” Keith jumps up and paces across the small space in her room. “Your future is everything to me. I just think—if you get out of Neptune, get a fresh start—think about everything you could accomplish! Columbia or Harvard for law school…”

 

But she’s stopped listening. Leave Neptune. Get a fresh start. Leave Logan. 

 

He must notice that she’s not jumping and squealing like he expected at this point. He grabs her hands and pulls her up off the bed. 

 

“Obviously, this is big news. I understand you might need a few days to process it. We have until the start of Christmas break to let them know.”  

 

With another huge smile, Keith backs out of her room, making jazz hands and mouthing, “Stanford,” one last time. 

 

Veronica closes her door and woodenly moves to the bathroom to take a shower, not knowing what to think. 

 

——

 

Logan picks Veronica up from her apartment at seven o’clock and they head out to his car.

 

“I was thinking we’d stay in for date night tonight,” he says, opening the passenger door for her and helping her inside.

 

He looks casually comfortable in jeans, a black fitted t-shirt and his favorite plaid button-up as he walks around the front of the Range Rover and slips into the driver’s seat, and Veronica’s glad she went for a casual look as well: jeans, boots and her black leather jacket.

 

“You owe me after last night,” Logan continues, starting the car and pulling out into the street. “So, I’m picking Chinese take-out plus I get to chose the movie.”

 

She realizes she’s supposed to say something. 

 

“Oh. Yeah, okay.” She sits on the far side of the car, pressed against the door and gazes silently out the window. “I just need to make a quick stop first.”

 

“Where are we going?” 

 

“River Stix,” Veronica mumbles to the window, pressing her fingertips against the cool glass. 

 

She is startled when Logan jerks the car over to the side of the road and throws it into park. She sits up, furious, ready to yell at him for his rough driving, but he beats her to it. 

 

“What the hell, Veronica? What are you thinking?” His voice is harsh and loud in the quiet car. He grips the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turn white. 

 

“You have no right—no right, Logan—to tell me what to do!” It feels so good to be able to release some of the tension at her dad that she just keeps yelling. “Stop being so overprotective! Stop thinking you can boss me around!” 

 

She pants harshly, her hysterical voice echoing around the car. 

 

Instead of responding, Logan just shakes his head and swallows audibly. His shoulders go limp in defeat and he lets his hands slide off the steering wheel as he takes a deep breath, staring straight ahead out the windshield. 

 

“No claim on you, huh?” He huffs a bitter laugh, still not looking at her. “I’m not trying to control you, Veronica, but I did kinda think I was your boyfriend, that all these things that I’ve done for you on this case gave me a right to an opinion.” He pauses and the silence sits heavy around her. “Or maybe we’re just trading favors, like high school all over again.”

 

Veronica closes her eyes and leans her head back against the leather seat as the adrenaline from their fight drains from her body. “Logan, it’s not like that.” 

 

She opens her eyes and sees his wounded puppy dog face staring back at her as he slumps in his seat. Traffic continues to whip past them but neither one notices. 

 

“I just—my dad and I had a fight—I’m sorry I took it out on you,” she apologizes. “I really do appreciate your help with this case.”

 

She angles her body towards him and puts a tentative hand on his arm, trying to bridge the gulf that she created. 

 

“The thing is, we really do need to plant a bug in River Stix.” Logan opens his mouth to interrupt so she continues on in a rush. “We need actual evidence that ties the Fitzpatricks to Vinnie and the gun buyback program and proof that the guns haven’t been destroyed. I have a plan. There’s really no other way—”

 

His anger seems to dissipate as Logan sits up straighter. His eyes widen like he’s just had a great idea. “What about Vinnie? He’s already in with the Fitzpatricks; it wouldn’t be weird for him to be there. Have him do it.” 

 

He seems so eager, and Veronica has to admit that it’s not a bad idea. After her previous visits to the shady Fitzpatrick bar, she’s really not looking forward to this one, so maybe this idea can work. 

 

She sighs and pulls her phone out of her purse. “Okay. I’ll call Vinnie.”

 

Logan grabs the phone out of her hands. “I don’t trust you. I’ll call.”

 

She opens her mouth, offended, ready to yell at him again, but he already has the phone to his ear and she snaps her mouth closed, briefly regretting that she has the sheriff’s department on speed dial. 

 

“I’d like to speak to Sheriff Van Lowe,” he says. “Yes, I have a tip to report. A crime in progress.”

 

Veronica glares at him and he meets her eyes, muttering darkly, “You sneaking into River Stix by yourself is definitely a crime.”

 

Vinnie must pick up the line then, because, before she can point out that she wasn’t breaking in or stealing anything, Logan turns back to the phone conversation, staring out the windshield. 

 

“Sheriff. This is Veronica’s  _ secretary _ .” He bites off the word fiercely, obviously still bitter about their tiff. “She has some information to report about your person of interest but she needs something from you in return.” Logan pauses. “Well, get to a place where you can speak freely then.” He listens for a second, tapping his free hand on his thigh. “Yeah, call me back at this number.”

 

He slides her phone shut and tosses it back and forth between his hands. “He’s gonna step outside and call me back on his cell.” 

 

He continues to stare straight ahead, still not looking at Veronica. 

 

She nods tersely and crosses her arms over her chest. Her phone’s vibrating alert sounds loud in the tense silence. 

 

“Yeah.” Logan answers, jumping right in without preamble. “You need to come plant a bug for us at the River Stix.” He pauses and then laughs sarcastically. “I don’t care. You’re the Sheriff. Act like it’s a bust or something and plant it that way.”

 

There’s another pause and Veronica is pissed that she didn’t think to make him put the call on speaker phone. 

 

Logan’s tone becomes agitated as he says, “Look, Vinnie, we can't—” He’s cut off for a second but then tries again. “It’s too dangerous—” 

 

He sighs and closes the phone before turning to face her. “Vinnie won’t do it. He’s a coward, basically, says that’s why he hired you.”

 

Veronica gives him a tight smile. “I am pretty good at my job.”

 

“There’s got to be another way, Veronica. This is a terrible idea.” Logan looks miserable as he leans forward in his seat and rests his head on the steering wheel. 

 

She knows that he can’t have fond memories of River Stix either, and she lays a comforting hand on his back. 

 

“I have a plan.”

 

He turns his head to look at her, his temple still on the steering wheel. “Scarier words have never been spoken.”

 

——

 

It’s dark when they pull up outside the seedy bar and park a block away. The neon sign advertising the establishment is missing the X and one of the green shamrocks flickers intermittently in the darkness. Various beer signs are the only things that can be seen through the blacked-out windows, and the paint is chipping off the brick, in need of a fresh coat. 

 

“Are you sure about this?” Logan asks again, his knee bouncing agitatedly. He glances at their surroundings, as if wanting to get out of there as soon as possible. 

 

“My plans are always brilliant.” She waves her phone at him cockily. 

 

“Um—”

 

“No, don’t argue. This one’s gonna be fine.” 

 

Veronica doesn’t feel nearly as confident as she sounds, but there’s no way Logan will go along with this if she lets him think she has any doubts. 

 

She slides open her phone. “See? I worked out all the details with Declan this afternoon. I’m just gonna text his burner phone and he’s going to come through with that diversion we talked about to get everyone out of the bar.” 

 

She tosses her phone in her bag, unbuckling her seat belt and opening the car door. She hitches her bag up on her shoulder and looks over at Logan, still in the driver's seat, and raises her eyebrows. 

 

“Are you coming? Because it’s show time.”

 

Logan takes off his over-shirt, balling it up and tossing it into the backseat angrily, muttering something about not ruining his favorite shirt. Clad now in just his tight, black t-shirt, he heaves a sigh and follows her out of the car. She walks briskly past the entrance to the bar and creeps into the alleyway that she knows—based on a previous visit—houses the back door. 

 

“So? Is Declan going to flash you the Bat Signal or something?” Logan crouches behind her and sneers in her ear. 

 

Lately she’s enjoyed having him on this case with her, but she’s already on edge and the venom in his tone makes her snap. 

 

“God, just shut up, Logan!” She turns around and hisses at him. “I can’t believe I thought you could help with this!” 

 

He puts his hand on her arm but she shakes it off. 

 

“Just go wait in the car!”

 

He grips both her biceps and pulls her closer to his chest so she is forced to tilt her head up to see his face. 

 

“Like hell I will, Veronica.” His voice is low and firm. 

 

His grip on her arms tightens for a moment, before he lets go and steps back. “Let’s get in and do this so you can fake another date night with me and bolt home.”

 

She can almost see his anger evaporate as he slumps against the dingy brick wall of the bar. She grabs his hand, pulling him away from the wall. 

 

“I’m sorry about date night, I promise I’ll stop hijacking it for cases.” She pauses. “I thought you liked helping me.”

 

Logan sighs. “I do, Veronica. But I mistakenly thought I was your partner on this one.” He gives a bitter laugh. “It was, I dunno, kind of fun.” 

 

He looks down and scuffs the toe of his shoe in the gravel of the dirty alley. 

 

She grabs his other hand before he can shove it in his pocket. “Logan—”

 

Before she can reassure him, the fire alarm goes off. 

 

“I think that’s our Bat Signal.” She drops his hands and eases the grey steel door open. 

  
  



	12. Chapter 12

The back-alley employee entrance of the River Stix leads Veronica and Logan into a tiny hallway, lit only by one bare lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. As they creep along through the gloomy interior, Veronica’s eyes adjust and she can just about make out the bar’s seating area to her right. 

 

The large open room, littered with rickety wooden tables and chairs, is deserted, thanks to Declan’s trick with the fire alarm. The pool table—her throat goes dry as she tries not to think about the time Liam Fitzpatrick held her down on top of it—is at the far end of the room. 

 

“Empty. Perfect,” Veronica whispers as they duck behind the bar. 

 

She crouches down on the filthy floor and pulls two tiny listening devices out of her studded black messenger bag. She hands one to Logan, meeting his gaze. His eyes are wide and his breath comes fast. His pulse jumps in his throat. As he takes the bug from her, she leans in and gives him a hard kiss. He grabs the back of her neck, holding her against him briefly, and she can taste his fear and excitement. 

 

“Over there.” She gestures at the open half of the room. “Maybe under the pool table? A backup just in case the one here doesn’t get what we need.”

 

But before Logan can stand up, they hear voices coming from the entrance at the other end of the room. 

 

“Stupid fire alarm! Malfunctioning again. We’re gonna hafta call a repairman if that keeps happening.” 

 

The voice sounds suspiciously like Liam Fitzpatrick’s drawl—the same one she hears in her nightmares—and Veronica gulps as her heart rate spikes. She instinctively grabs Logan’s hand and squeezes his fingers while she scrabbles to place the bug on the underside of the bar with her other hand, trying not to bump any glasses or bottles. Her palms are slick with sweat. One bug will have to do. She just hopes they get out of here alive.  She’s sure Liam will remember her and a confrontation with him won’t be pretty. 

 

Logan lets go of her fingers and quietly digs in her purse, pulling out her phone. His hands shake as he sends an emergency text to Declan, who’s supposed to be waiting outside the bar, as she covers her mouth with her hands and tries not to breathe too loudly. 

 

She can hear at least one other person scuffling around the room with Liam and she wracks her brain, trying to think of an excuse to get them out of this if they get caught. 

 

“Uncle Liam, someone from the fire department wants to talk to you about the alarm system.” Veronica breathes a sigh of relief as Declan’s voice sounds through the bar. Right on time. The footsteps recede and the door slams. She makes a mental note to smooth things over with Fire Chief Bill later as Logan peeks over the bar quickly. 

 

“They’re gone. Lets go.” 

 

He grabs her hand and pulls her out from behind the bar, down the hallway, and out the door they came in through. Logan abruptly stops as soon as they get outside and Veronica almost crashes into him. 

 

“Shit,” he mutters under his breath. “We’re blocked in.” 

 

Veronica follows his gaze and and echos his curse when she sees the alley—their exit— is no longer deserted but filled with bystanders and Fitzpatrick employees. 

 

Logan presses Veronica up against the filthy wall, trying to shield her face, and whispers, “Play along.” 

 

She can feel the grimy bricks under her fingertips and she can’t figure out why—out of all the things she should be worrying about in this moment—she can’t stop thinking about all the gross things that have happened in this alley. She vows to wash her hands as soon as possible. 

 

She nods vigorously as he leans into her and nuzzles her neck. He pretends to kiss her and she wraps her arms around him and fists her hands in his shirt, both to keep up the act and to anchor herself. She’s shaky thanks to the adrenaline flowing through her body. He shifts them slightly towards the other end of the alley and she follows, hoping to buy them some time or find another way out. 

 

“Hey! What are you doing?” someone yells at them from the end of the alley. 

 

Logan lifts his head but doesn’t look in that direction. 

 

“What does it look like, buddy?” He slurs drunkenly and Veronica buries her face in his chest. “I was kissing a pretty girl; mind your own business.”

 

“Not sure it’s worth braving a burning building, dude!” The man laughs. “The fire alarm went off; you probably want to move away from there.”

 

Logan swears again quietly and throws his arm around her shoulders, keeping her tucked against his chest as they move out of the tiny space. She doesn’t make eye contact with anyone, but manages an embarrassed sorority girl giggle as they walk past. 

 

“Good excuse to get a room anyway,” Logan tosses out to the crowd watching as they stumble away. 

 

The block to the car feels like a mile and Veronica imagines all eyes are trained on them. Her pulse thrums and her heart feels like it’s going to jump out of her chest. Every muscle in her body stretches taut, waiting for someone to yell, to stop them. 

 

But it doesn’t come. They approach his car and Logan sneaks a glance over his shoulder. 

 

“No one’s looking,” he whispers in her ear. “Get in.”

 

Her legs practically collapse underneath her as he opens the door and boosts her into the passenger seat. She’s still shaking and her breath comes in pants as Logan quickly slides behind the wheel and takes off, making a U turn so they avoid driving by the bar. 

 

Now that they’re safe, the fear she felt in the bar quickly dissipates, replaced with pure adrenaline. In fact, she feels exhilarated.

 

A slightly manic laugh escapes her. “God, Logan, that was close.”

 

When he doesn’t respond, Veronica glances over at him. Bands of street lights flash across them rhythmically and illuminate the inside of the car. His knuckles grip the steering wheel and a muscle jumps in his clenched jaw. She studies his profile, a thrill running through her. She's high on adrenaline, almost giddy.

Logan. Logan. Logan.  It feels like that is what her heart beats out over and over again as her blood pounds through her veins. 

 

If it wasn’t for him, she might not have made it out of that alley unscathed. She’s not sure how she would have got herself out of that situation if she'd been alone tonight, but she doesn’t want to dwell on the ‘what ifs’. It’s bad enough that simply hearing Liam’s voice in the bar earlier brought back old nightmares.

 

It hits her then, how grateful she is to have Logan here with her, working with her. Why did she think it would be a bad idea to let him help?

 

“Logan,” she murmurs, barely aware that she’s said it out loud. Her voice catches in her throat and her body vibrates with excitement and need. Need to be with him; need to release all this pent-up energy inside her. 

 

He looks over at her in the dimly-lit car. It’s so dark that she can’t make out the expression in his brown eyes, but he seems to know what she’s thinking as he turns the car into the first available parking lot. The tension between them practically crackles. 

Pulling to a stop, he reaches across the gear shift and cups her face in his hands roughly, bringing her lips to his in a searing kiss. She responds eagerly, gripping the back of his neck to hold his mouth to hers and shifting so that she can straddle his lap in the driver's seat. 

 

His hands slide down from her face to grip her hips and he manages to access the lever to throw his seat back, giving her more room against the steering wheel. Their kiss is urgent, filled with need as they push against each other for more. She grabs onto his hair as he unbuttons her jeans. 

 

One of his hands slides into her underwear, finding her wet with need, while the other helps her frantically peel off her jacket. His lips move from her mouth to the pounding pulse point in her neck, kissing and nipping at her skin so eagerly that she’s sure he’ll  leave a mark, and she shifts back on his thighs to fumble with the fly of his jeans. She can feel his arousal beneath her fingers. His thumbs move to caress her nipples through her clothes and she moans as he continues to suck on her neck. 

 

“Logan,” she pants. “Backseat. Now.”

 

He nods and she squeezes between the seats and kicks off her shoes.  He follows quickly, shucking her pants and underwear off her and settling her on his lap again. He pulls a condom out of his wallet and hands it to her. Veronica wastes no time opening the foil wrapper with her teeth while he tugs his pants down, and she rolls it on him. 

 

She lifts herself up and then sinks down, enveloping him inside her with a deep moan. He grabs her hips again and helps her find a rhythm and then moves his hands to push her shirt and bra up, bending his head down to suck on one of her nipples. She arches her back to give him better access and moves faster. 

 

Her body sings with pleasure, with the utter rightness of this, and in this moment, her head spins and she knows she loves him. The revelation surprises her and she slows her movements, almost stilling. He releases her breast and looks up at her, confused. 

 

“What? Are you okay?”

 

She nods her head yes and grabs his chin in her hand so that she can see his face. It’s dark in the backseat—thank god for tinted windows—and the light streaming in from the parking lot is dim. But she wants to meet his eyes, wants to give him this, to let him see her.

 

She’s not ready to say the words—not naked in the backseat of Logan’s car in a dark parking lot—but she knows it to be true. It’s not just the adrenaline rush or the danger or the sex. She’s bursting with the knowledge that she loves Logan. 

 

He’s thrusting slowly now, deep inside her and she matches his rhythm, grinding down. His hands slide up her back and press her closer against him and she moves hers to his shoulders. It’s too much, all this emotion—only Logan makes her feel this way—and just when she’s sure she can’t take another second, her world explodes. 

 

As her orgasm overtakes her, she resists the urge to throw her head back or close her eyes. She keeps them fixed on Logan the whole time, naked and open, showing him all her emotions. His orgasm quickly follows hers and she can see everything that she’s feeling reflected on his face. He sees her for who she is and he loves her. Waves of pleasure flow through her and she’s moaning loudly now, gripping his shoulders as her muscles spasm, still not taking her eyes off him. 

 

After the intensity recedes, she buries her face in the crook of his neck and laughs. He holds her tightly, putting her together again, and kisses her face. 

 

“You know, some men might be offended by laughter in this moment.” His tone is amused. 

 

She lifts her head and gestures around at the windows. “I just realized we’re in a Walgreens parking lot. We made it out of the River Stix fine, but now we’re going to get arrested for indecent exposure.”

 

He shifts her back a bit and, quickly disposing of the condom, he pulls his pants back up and tugs her shirt down to cover her breasts, tucking her into his side.

 

“There. All better.” He sounds inordinately pleased with himself and tired as he clumsily pats her back. 

 

“Logan, I’m still not wearing pants.” Another giggle escapes her. 

 

“Oh. Well, put those on and then come back.” His head lulls back against the seat and he closes his eyes. 

 

Veronica quickly complies, tugging on her pants in the empty seat next to him, and then returning to snuggle into his side. 

 

“Just a quick rest…” He trails off as he pulls her close. 

 

“Mmmhmmm.” She’s content to stay in this perfect moment as long as possible. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to Heavenli24 and MarshmellowBobcat for making sure that Logan didn't have too many hands and other logistical nightmares :) You guys are the best!


	13. Chapter 13

Veronica spends the next few days listening to the bug she and Logan planted in the River Stix. She also works on avoiding her dad, mostly because she doesn’t know how to tell him that she doesn’t want to go to Stanford but also because she has no idea how to make him see that Logan is important to her. 

 

The knowledge that she loves Logan fills her up inside but she’s not ready to share it with anyone yet, let alone her dad. She suspects he won’t respond positively. With finals coming up and everything else going on, she decides she can put it off for a few more weeks. 

 

For his part, Keith doesn’t make avoidance too hard, seeing as he spends fewer nights at home than she does. He’s probably at Harmony’s (ugh) but she doesn’t want to think about that too much so she doesn’t ask. While she did promise him she would sleep in her own bed each night, more and more of her clothes have been migrating to the extra closet in Logan’s master bedroom lately. 

 

She has her earbuds in, listening to recordings from the audio device while sitting behind the help desk during her evening shift at the library, when she hears Declan’s voice through the crackling static.  

 

“Hey, Uncle Liam, we got one of those special customers to see you.”

 

The audio is garbled after that, with too much background noise, but she makes a mental note to ask Declan what it means. 

 

A moment later, she catches Liam talking again. 

 

“So, Declan, how’s your new girlfriend?” He laughs menacingly. 

 

Declan stutters. “Oh, oh, yeah, she’s good, Uncle Liam.”

 

“You keeping an eye on things like we talked about?” The joking tone is gone, replaced with brutal seriousness. 

 

“Um, yeah, I guess.” 

 

“So tell me, is she a nice girl?” Liam pauses, “Or does she put out?”

 

“Uh, well, I don’t… I mean…” Declan stumbles over his words. His attempts to avoid answering the question are quickly drowned out by Liam’s laughter. 

 

Veronica wishes Declan were a better actor, but based on Liam’s reaction, she doesn’t think the guy suspects anything.

 

She jumps suddenly, as fingers tickle her sides from behind, and she pulls out her ear buds, spinning around to find Logan grinning at her playfully. He merely laughs at the glare she shoots him. 

 

“Hey, this is the library. A place for quiet reflection and study. Don’t make me throw you out.” She tries to scold him but she can’t stop the corners of her mouth from turning up. He’s just so cute. 

 

“That’s not what you said on the third floor the other night.” He bobs his eyebrows suggestively and Veronica blushes. 

 

He leans back on the help desk and, after glancing around to make sure they aren’t being observed, she rises up and gives him a quick kiss. 

 

“I should go to class, I just wanted to say hi and make sure we are still on for tonight.” Logan’s eyes twinkle as he smiles at her and his look of adoration fills her with warmth.  

 

She hopes he’s not too disappointed by what she has to tell him. 

 

“Remember how I promised to stop hijacking date night?” She goes full-on perky and bats her eyelashes at him to try to soften the blow. 

 

He raises a questioning brow. 

 

“I lied.” Veronica shrugs at his exasperated sigh. “C’mon, it will be fun.”

 

“How much fun?” He spears her with a serious look, but she responds with a coy half-smile. 

 

“Third floor of the library fun.”

 

“I’m in.” He puts a kiss on the top of her head and skips off with a wave. “See you later, Bobcat.”

 

——-

 

“So is this, like, a double date?” Logan asks, holding open the door to the ice cream parlor so she can walk in. “Or are we just coincidentally bumping into our new friends?”

 

“Pretty sure it’s just a serendipitous run-in,” she murmurs quietly to him, in case Jennifer and Declan are already there. “But we’ll have to see how he wants to play it. I texted him earlier to set up the meet, but didn’t work out the details.”

 

Amy’s might be a prime tourist spot but only because it truly is the best ice cream in—Veronica claims—all of California. Perhaps the world. She hasn’t actually tried all the other ice cream parlors in the world to back up this belief, but she is more than willing to do so. 

 

It’s decorated like an old-fashioned soda shop, complete with red and white bunting and red vinyl bar stools, ice cream served in tall glass dishes with long spoons, and employees dressed in bow ties, red and white striped shirts, and white paper hats. In spite of the cheesy atmosphere, Veronica loves it and, of course, the food is incredible. 

 

She glances around and doesn’t see her informant yet. She grabs a spot in a booth at the back where she can see the whole restaurant and sends Logan off to place their order. He is less upset than she expected about the way she’s commandeered their date night again and she vows to thank him again for it later. And try to squeeze in a real date night sometime soon. She glances down at her jeans and the old green Neptune Pirates t-shirt she found to help sell her ruse, and she mentally adds to her promise and decides to dress up for this future date night, too. 

 

Logan comes back with a smile and two giant waffle cones—chocolate chip cookie dough for her and butter pecan for him. 

 

“There’s nothing like a handsome man bearing ice cream,” she quips. “Thanks, doll-face.” 

 

He hands her the cone and slides down into the booth next to her, bumping her affectionately with his shoulder as she takes a bite. 

 

“Hey, watch the ice cream!” she teases him. 

 

Logan gives her a sexy, defiant look and leans down and steals a lick from her cone. 

 

She gasps in mock outrage. “I can’t believe you did that.”

 

He wags his eyebrows seductively. “You’ll have to punish me later.”

 

Veronica swallows at the thought and her heart rate kicks up a notch. Before she can reply, she hears the bell jingle over the door. She looks up quickly and sees Declan and Jennifer enter. Declan catches her eye and feigns surprise. 

 

“Hey, babe! Look who it is!”

 

Jennifer doesn’t seem to pick up on his bad acting and seems genuinely excited to see them. 

 

“Veronica!” She takes in her Neptune Pirates t-shirt. “I thought you went to school somewhere else?”

 

_ Crap _ . That was what she had said at the dance. She thinks fast. “Yeah, um, I stole it from my boyfriend.” 

 

She gives Logan an adoring look and he gives her a cheesy wink in return. 

 

“Hey, you guys wanna join us?” Logan thankfully distracts Jen with his invitation and gestures at the open space in the booth across from them. 

 

“Sure!” Jennifer slides in and looks up at Declan expectantly. “Can you get me a Superman cone?”

 

He nods and ambles off towards the counter. 

 

“I’m just gonna…” Veronica jerks her thumb in the direction of the bathroom. She climbs over Logan and squeezes his thigh meaningfully. “Be right back.”

 

She sends Logan a look and he nods. She knows he can keep Jennifer occupied without getting suspicious while she’s gone. Heading in the direction of the bathrooms, she quickly pulls Declan out of line and through the back ‘employees only’ exit. 

 

He rubs his bicep where she grabbed him and huffs at her. 

 

“What if Jen—”

 

“She won’t notice.” Veronica waves her hand impatiently. “Who was the special customer who came to see Liam the other day?”

 

His eyes widen in surprise and he stutters, “Look, I, I dunno. I don’t want anything to happen to Jen but—”

 

Her voice is harsh as she cuts him off. “You do remember what your family’s mixed up in, right? I thought you didn’t want to be a part of that anymore.” 

 

She crosses her arms and glares at him. 

 

Declan sighs. 

 

“It’s just, it’s harder than I thought,” he mutters, staring at the ground and kicking it with the toe of his scuffed work boots. 

 

“You think it’s tough now? It will be even harder if the sheriff’s daughter finds out that you’re not as innocent as you say. Trust me on that.” 

 

Her menacing tone causes Declan to flinch. He meets her eyes and must believe what he sees. 

 

“Who are you?” Declan whispers. 

 

“Not important.” Veronica shrugs off his question. “Although maybe I’ll fill you in when this is all over. Tell me about the special customer.”

 

He sighs again and examines his shoes. “I don’t know who the dude was. A special customer is someone who wants to buy drugs or a gun.”

 

Veronica inhales sharply. “The buyback contraband.” 

 

“Look, I don’t know where we get it. It’s best not to ask too many questions.” His eyes fly to hers, frantic, and she doesn’t want to push him into a full-blown panic. 

 

“Okay. I’ve got it from here.” Her tone softens in an attempt to calm him. “Go get your ice cream.”

 

Declan ducks his head and walks back into Amy’s. Veronica quickly follows, with a detour to the bathroom hallway to protect her cover. 

 

Her mind whirls with the information Declan’s just revealed. Although she shouldn’t be surprised the River Stix is involved in illegal drug and weapons trafficking, she knows now’s not the time.  _ Keep playing it cool, Veronica _ . She pastes on a smile as she approaches the red vinyl booth and slides in next to Logan. She glares at him when she notices that her ice cream cone is half-gone. 

 

He shrugs, unrepentant, at her glare. “It was melting.”

 

She takes it from him, her expression thawing, and places a kiss on his cheek. 

 

“That’s okay, pumpkin.” Turning back to Jen, she affects her best Amber voice. “My dad just called. He wants me home now so we’ve gotta run. Sorry, Jen. It was fun to see you again, though!” 

 

Logan smirks at her peppy voice but doesn’t comment. Jennifer’s face falls and Veronica feels another stab of guilt for lying to the girl. On impulse, she grabs a napkin and, fishing a pen from her messenger bag, she scribbles on it quickly and slides it across the table to Jen. 

 

“Here’s my number. We should hang out sometime.” 

 

The smile she gives Jennifer as they leave is genuine this time. 

 

“What’s up with that?” Logan whispers in her ear as he steals another bite of her ice cream and opens the passenger door of his car for her. 

 

Veronica shrugs as she settles in the seat. Logan climbs into the driver's’ side and she stares at him, licking her cone seductively and letting her lust show in her eyes. 

 

He gulps but doesn’t fall for her ploy to change the subject, eying her while he waits for her answer.

 

“I dunno. She’ll probably never forgive me for lying to her but,” she pauses and wipes a drip off her fingers with a napkin from the console, “I do feel a slight affinity for the spunky Sheriff’s daughter dating the bad boy.”

 

“Maybe you should start a club.” Logan taps his fingers on the steering wheel and stares straight ahead as he starts the car. 

 

“Ehh. Maybe not. I don’t really fit that description anymore. Neither does my boyfriend.”

 

“So what’d you learn from Declan?” Logan deftly changes the subject. 

 

“The special customers are buying confiscated weapons. I think it’s time to call Agent Ford at the FBI.”

 

“He was your internship supervisor?”

 

“Yeah. I’m hoping he can get me an appointment with someone in the San Diego field office.”   

 

Veronica pauses and contemplates the full implications of involving the FBI. 

 

“Anyway. Thanks for being my—” She was going to say ‘backup’ but stumbles over the word and changes her mind. “My partner tonight. Wanna head to your place for the rest of date night?”

 

She gives him a coy look and twirls a strand of hair around her finger. 

 

“The rest?” He raises a brow in her direction. 

 

“Uh-huh.”

 

“What do you have in mind?” 

 

Veronica makes a show of glancing out her window.

 

“The sun’s set. Looks like a nice night. I was thinking your hot tub?”

 

Logan looks pointedly at her feet and the back seat. “Did you bring your bathing suit? I don’t see a bag.”

 

She gives him a wink. “I can’t believe I keep forgetting to leave an extra at your house.” 

 

“Or do I keep confiscating them?” He muses, finger tapping on his chin, and rewards her with a lopsided smile. 

 

“That explains so much!” Veronica pretends to be surprised. “I guess I’ll have to just go skinny dipping. Is that okay with you?”

 

She leans across the console and slides her hand up his leg, squeezing his upper thigh. Logan swerves slightly and then grips the steering wheel, knuckles white, eyes straight ahead. He clears his throat but his voice still sounds strangled. 

 

“Definitely, Bobcat.”


	14. Chapter 14

“Thanks for driving today, ”  Veronica says, setting herself in the passenger seat of the Range Rover. She buckles her seat belt and sets an accordion file on the floor at her feet while Logan checks his mirrors and backs out. 

 

“You know I’m always good for a road trip. I’ve been itching to be a getaway driver for years.” He winks at her. 

 

She smiles at him, thankful for both the ride and his company. While she doesn’t want to test his evasive driving skills, she suspects that he’d be good at that, too, in a pinch.

 

“You look the part for the job today, at least.” She gestures at his preppy grey dress pants, brown dress shoes, and red and blue checked button-down shirt under his navy cashmere sweater. 

 

He shrugs. “You said to look respectable.” He gestures at her black pantsuit, red blouse, and low heels. “I’m assuming that is left over from this summer?”

 

Veronica makes a face, glancing down at herself. “Ah, yes. My unsung FBI souvenir: the sensible suit.”

 

He snorts a laugh at her. “It is decidedly less sexy than in my fantasies.”

 

“Logan!” She bats at his shoulder playfully. “A pantsuit fantasy? Really?”

 

“No, that’s the problem. In my FBI interrogation fantasy, you’re wearing a skirt. And garters. No underwear.”

 

He leers at her and she swats him a bit harder this time. 

 

“Perv!” 

 

He doesn’t seem offended. She can’t quite manage to hide a grin at him. 

 

They lapse into a comfortable silence until the San Diego FBI field office building comes into view. The long, squat cement structure looks very much like it houses offices and no-nonsense federal agents. Government construction certainly favors functionality over beauty.

 

Logan sighs and she pats his arm. 

 

“I know. Bureaucracy incarnate. But look,” she points at the garage out the window, “at least there’s free parking.”

 

He shrugs, pacified, and pulls into the parking garage, wending his way through the nondescript sedans until he finds an open spot. 

 

“After some of my experiences with law enforcement, I was hoping never to visit this building, Veronica, so I don’t really understand how it appeals to you.” 

 

He turns off the ignition and shifts, facing her. 

 

When she speaks, her voice is quiet in the small space and she looks down at her fingers, nails trimmed neatly. 

 

“It doesn’t, really, not anymore. I don’t know quite what I want but...I don’t think it’s this. My internship was actually kind of boring.” She makes a face. “So many rules!”

 

She grabs the brown accordion file off the floor and straightens her shoulders, trying to psych up both herself and Logan. “I guess it’s time to go play by them, though.” 

 

She eyes Logan as she opens the car door. “Let’s keep anything less-than-legal between us, hmm? I’m not sure how the FBI would feel about some of the bugs I’ve planted. And remember: no punching, no sarcasm, and no sass.”

 

He gives her an innocent look, but hops out of the car and meets her around the back. 

 

“Here, let me.” He takes the file from her hands. “A good P.A. would totally carry your stuff.”

 

“I’m still not sure it’s believable…” she trails off. 

 

In order to appear as professional as possible, Ms. Mars, licensed P.I., is trying to look older and is bringing her personal assistant. Veronica doesn’t think they’re pulling off either angle but it’s probably better than admitting that they are college students outright.

 

“Oh, I almost forgot.”

 

Logan pulls a pair of thick-rimmed glasses from his pocket and puts them on as Veronica tucks an errant strand of hair back into her sleek chignon. 

 

“You look adorable. Going for the old Clark Kent trick?”

 

He shrugs. “Is it working?”

 

“I guess we’ll find out.” 

 

She had initially been concerned that Logan’s former notoriety would be a distraction for the FBI, but he had convinced her that a pair of glasses and the alias of ‘Mr. Lester’ would be enough to deflect their attention. 

 

Veronica strides through the parking garage to the elevator and takes it to the lobby. From there, they follow their escort, a willowy blonde agent who sends flirty smiles in Logan’s direction, to meet Agent Thompson on the third floor. 

 

Agent Thompson is tall and imposing African-American man with the requisite black bureau suit and drab tie. He looks to be in his early fifties. She hands him the business card she printed off her computer and, after giving them a once-over and raising an eyebrow, he ushers them into his office. 

 

“So, Ms. Mars. You’re a P.I., you say?”

 

She doesn’t allow his skeptical look to ruffle her as he sits behind his desk and folds his hands on the blotter in front of him. She channels her most businesslike persona and nods.

 

Thompson eyes Logan speculatively. 

 

“This is my assistant, Mr. Lester.” She waves a hand in his direction, but doesn’t spare him a glance. She clears her throat.  “A case has come to my attention and, well, I think it may require Bureau involvement.”

 

“You did an internship out in Virginia, am I right?” 

 

Veronica swears internally as Thompson’s sharp gaze fixes on her. She had been hoping to wow him with the facts of the case so that he couldn’t ask too many personal questions. 

 

She smooths her hair. “Yes, that was how I met Agent Ford. He said you were the person to talk to in San Diego.” 

 

She’s tempted to lay on the charm, but she doesn’t think he’s the kind to give in to flattery so she refrains. Her brusque and professional tone must do the trick though, because he leans back in his chair. 

 

“Oh, yeah? Tell me the details, then.”

 

Logan hands her the file he’s been carrying. He pushes his fake glasses further up his nose and glances at his watch, appearing bored and disinterested. Perfect. 

 

“The Balboa County Sheriff is being blackmailed by a small-time crime family. The county hosted a gun buyback program but instead of destroying the guns, Neptune’s own Irish mob is selling them.” 

 

She opens her file and hands Agent Thompson a sheaf of papers across his desk. He eyes the information briefly as he flips through the pages. 

 

“Where’s your evidence?”

 

Veronica sputters. “It’s all there.” 

 

She gestures at the papers in his hands. 

 

“Special customers?” Thompson looks back down at Veronica’s notes. “High school students?” He clears his throat and continues, dry voice dripping with condescension. “Ms. Mars, this is the FBI. I would have thought your internship would have taught you not to waste our time.”

 

“But—”

 

“This isn’t anything I can use,” He cuts her off. “I need an audio or visual confession.”

 

Veronica opens her mouth to protest but he holds up his hand to halt her. 

 

“Yes, it would be inadmissible as evidence but it would be enough to get me a warrant and mount my own investigation.” Thompson leans back in his chair and sighs. “I’m sorry, I just can’t help you.”

 

His apology would be more believable if he didn’t sound so smug. Veronica holds herself ramrod straight and manages not to glare at him as she collects her inadequate evidence. The adrenaline from her anger is threatening to boil over and starting to make her shake. 

 

“Thanks for your time.” She bites out the words. “We can see ourselves out.”

 

Veronica stands abruptly, the sound of her chair legs scraping across the tile floor echoing loudly in the space. She keeps her head high, and turns her back on Thompson, blindly rushing out of his office. She can feel Logan at her back but he must know better than to touch her right now because he lets her pull ahead of him down the corridor.

 

She rounds a corner and collides with another person, her breath leaving her body in a rush, her file falling to the floor. Logan steadies her, his hands around her upper arms.

 

It’s the tall blonde woman who escorted them upstairs from the lobby. She’s young, Veronica guesses, probably in her early twenties. 

 

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Still flustered, Veronica picks her dropped file up off the floor. 

 

The agent waves her apology away and turns her attention to Logan.

 

“You’re Logan Echolls, right?” 

 

Logan’s eyebrows arc high in surprise. “Um…”

 

“Good going, Clark Kent,” Veronica mutters under her breath. 

 

The agent doesn’t even spare a glance at Veronica. She doesn’t seem to notice that Logan hasn’t answered her question, either. 

 

“I’m Agent Sheridan.” She reaches around Veronica and holds out her hand to Logan, who is still standing half a step behind. “I couldn’t help but overhear…”

 

“I’m Ms. Mars.” Veronica forcefully interjects herself into the conversation. “What are you—?”

 

“I recognized you immediately, of course,” Agent Sheridan gushes, cutting her off. “I used to cut your pictures out of Teen People. I’d love to talk to you in my office. Would you sign something for me?”

 

Veronica rolls her eyes and keeps her feet firmly in place on the floor. 

 

Agent Sheridan turns around when she realizes that they’re not following, and hisses, “About your case. Play along.”

 

Veronica sighs deeply. 

 

“It couldn’t hurt, right?” Logan whispers in her ear. 

 

“Oh, I think it’ll hurt a lot. Fangirls can be brutal.” She huffs at him, but stomps off to follow Agent Sheridan.

 

Her ‘office’ is actually nothing more than a cubicle and Veronica looks around at the tiny space skeptically. Her irritation continues to grow as Agent Sheridan addresses all her comments to Logan. For his part, Logan just glances back and forth between the two of them, wide-eyed.

 

“Do you actually work here?” Veronica snaps. “Can you help us with our case or not?”

 

Agent Sheridan turns to Veronica with a glare of her own. 

 

“Of course I work here.” She gestures around at her office. “That was just a ruse to get to talk to you. I recognized Logan when I escorted you up here and then I listened in to your conversation with Thompson. He shot you down, huh?” She raises her eyebrows, dripping sarcasm. “Big surprise. You’re young and blonde, not to mention that your evidence is crap. However…” She pauses and eyes them both speculatively. “It could be just the sort of thing that puts my career on the map. And I’d love to work with you.” 

 

Veronica hates the way her eyes rove over Logan like he’s a piece of decadent chocolate cake... but if she’s actually offering to help, what other choice do they have? 

 

——

 

“No way,” Veronica says adamantly.

 

They’re using the office at Logan’s beach house to meet with Agent Sheridan because Veronica doesn’t have an office, or really any space to call her own at this point, and Agent Sheridan said they couldn’t meet at the FBI building because this case needs to fly under the radar. 

 

The office is bright and airy, the sunlight from the large windows illuminating Logan’s features as he sits in one of the cozy armchairs in the corner of the room. Sheridan has claimed the other armchair opposite him, while Veronica is perched on the storage bench in the bay window.

 

Maybe it’s the fangirl fascination with Logan that Sheridan adopted initially—Veronica’s still not convinced it isn’t a ruse, or some sort of innate Bureau sexism she’s assimilated, though that doesn’t make sense for a young, driven female agent—but the agent is still convinced Logan is calling the shots. 

 

She loses the thread of the conversation while she struggles to keep her irritation in check. 

 

“It has to be Logan.” Sheridan’s earnest tone brings Veronica’s focus back to the matter at hand. “He has to be the one to wear the wire and buy the gun.”

 

Veronica engages quickly and shakes her head adamantly again in protest. They’ve already had this argument so she knows her lines. 

 

“Definitely not. I’m doing it.”

 

“It doesn’t make any sense.” The agent’s cool logic makes Veronica want to rip her hair out. “You’re too straight-laced to believably be buying a gun illegally. You’ve said you’ve had run ins before. If you go in there, Veronica, they’ll know it’s a set-up.”

 

Veronica huffs. She hates that Agent Sheridan is right. She really hates that there’s a small part of her that is relieved. Things don’t go well when she visits the River Stix. 

 

“Okay, but why does it have to be Logan?” she argues, not ready to give in just yet. “I mean, there are tons of other people who could do it.” 

 

She doesn’t know who but... 

 

Sheridan glances over at him, her look assessing. “He’s kept his nose clean and stayed out of the press for a while, but he’s still the most believable person here to want to buy an unregistered weapon.”

 

“Maybe that’s why I want it!” Logan’s reply is so eager, Veronica’s heart lurches. She doesn’t want him to put himself in danger for her. “I don’t want the press to get wind of it so I’m buying it under the table.”

 

Veronica glares at him. “You would never do something so stupid.”

 

“No, I wouldn’t  _ now _ . There was a time in my life, though, that I might’ve. And they don’t need to know that my bad boy tendencies are mostly reformed.”

 

He’s staring at her intently and she clamps her teeth together to keep from arguing. Her jaw aches and her hands are clenched into fists in her lap. She hates the thought of what could happen to him in the River Stix, of all the ways this could go wrong. 

 

All because of stupid Agent Sheridan. 

 

“Why can’t you do it?” Veronica shifts on the window seat and turns to the other woman. “Why can’t you be the buyer?”

 

“This isn’t exactly a sanctioned Bureau case. I can be there as backup and monitor the purchase. I'd be able to testify to it if something happens to our evidence, but I can’t use Bureau resources to set up a new identity for myself, not without getting tons of approval. It has to be Logan,” she insists once again. 

 

It makes sense but Veronica’s loathe to admit it. She hops up off the window seat and begins pacing around, twisting her hands together. 

 

“What about…” She’s not really sure how she’s going to fill in that blank. 

 

Wallace? No way she’s gonna put him in harm’s way again. The Castle was bad enough.

 

Weevil? He could certainly handle himself, but why would he go to the Fitzpatricks to buy a gun instead of his own former gang? Especially after everything that went down between them all. It makes even less sense than her being the one to do it. 

 

She really, really hates this plan. But not enough to give up this case. She stops pacing and sighs. 

 

“Okay. Let’s do this.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to Heaveli24 for her beta help during a very busy week! She's the best :)


	15. Chapter 15

“Okay, one more time. If you need help, what phrase do you use?”

 

Logan sighs at Agent “call me Tiffany” Sheridan, put-upon, and rolls his eyes at her repetitiveness. He can do drama queen better than most girls Veronica knows. 

 

“I mention the decor in the bar.” 

 

Tiffany nods, like Logan’s a well-trained poodle. “Excellent.”

 

They’re in Logan’s Range Rover, parked on the street outside the River Stix, having decided that using Logan’s car made the most sense—he’s the buyer, after all, even if his luxury vehicle doesn’t blend with the neighborhood.

 

Agent Sheridan, possessions spread out across the backseat, has her laptop out, monitoring the wireless connection to the camera and microphone hidden in one of the buttons of Logan’s green plaid shirt. The setup isn’t ideal—Veronica wanted him to wear an earpiece but his hair wasn’t long enough to hide it—so camera and microphone it is.  _ Just another reason why he shouldn’t be the person going inside the Fitzpatrick headquarters, _ she thinks bitterly. 

 

Veronica’s phone buzzes in the front console, making her jump. She glances at the caller ID and hits ignore, muttering an apology. It’s been a while since she’s checked in with her dad but now is not the time. 

 

“Okay.” Logan rearranges the roll of twenties in his black motocross jacket pocket and puts his cell phone in his other pocket, patting it. 

 

“Microphone and camera are picking this up, right?” He glances at the agent in the backseat. 

 

“Mmmhmm. We’re all set.” She keeps her eyes locked on her laptop screen and seems entirely too chill about this for Veronica’s liking. 

 

Logan runs his thumb over Veronica’s knuckles, which are turning white as she clenches her hands tightly into fists. “Wish me luck.”

 

He leans in and places a quick kiss on her cheek and hops out of the car. 

 

Veronica’s shoulders ache with tension and her jaw hurts from grinding her teeth together so tightly. She watches Logan casually disappear through the blacked-out door to the bar and feels a stress headache beginning to throb behind her eyes. She definitely deserves a massage after this case is over. Hmm… maybe a couples massage at one of those swanky ‘09er spas that Lilly used to rave about…

 

She’s pulled out of her thoughts by the sound of Logan whistling ‘Oh Danny Boy’ over the microphone. Either that’s the only Irish song he knows or he’s trying to piss off the occupants of the bar. Knowing Logan, it’s probably both. 

 

“Hey, barkeep.” Veronica rolls her eyes at that one. It’s a good thing they planned their sting for a night when Declan’s working or else Logan would probably get punched for that comment alone. And Declan has been instructed not to incriminate himself on tape. Just in case. 

 

Logan continues, “I, uh, have a special request tonight. Can you help me out?”

 

Declan sounds puzzled. “I don’t know what that means but I can go get Liam, if you want.”

 

“Yeah, man, that’d be great.”

 

As Logan waits, the noise of the bar comes over the microphone—glasses clinking, balls rattling in the pool table, and AC/DC’s ‘Back in Black’ playing over the speakers. 

 

“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” Liam drawls over the wire. 

 

Logan just clears his throat. “I heard that you could acquire all sorts of interesting items here without a lot of questions asked. Is that true?”

 

“Depends on the questions. And the items.”

 

Before she can hear Logan’s reply, her phone buzzes in the console again.  _ Shit _ , she thinks, picking it up. It’s her dad again. Knowing him, he’ll just keep calling until she answers, so she grabs the phone and hops out of the car. 

 

“Dad, this isn’t really a good time—”

 

He cuts her off. “I’m sorry I didn’t make an appointment, Daughter Dear.”

 

He sounds jovial, which doesn’t make sense. He should be pissed that she’s been MIA lately and that she ignored his first call. 

 

“I have news.” He goes on. “I was going to tell you at home but we seem to be missing each other lately.”

 

_ Sure, Dad _ , she thinks.  _ That’s what’s been happening. _

 

“Um, okay, but I really should go—”

 

He doesn’t take the hint. “Since you’re moving up to Palo Alto next semester, I asked Harmony to move in with me. And she said yes.” 

 

He sounds so proud and happy, but the bottom drops out of Veronica’s stomach. He’s just assuming that she’s going to Stanford? He asked Harmony to move into their apartment? 

 

“You can congratulate me later.” His tone is smug, now, and it snaps Veronica out of her silent shock. 

 

“What the hell?” Veronica rubs her temple with her forefinger. “Dad, I can’t deal with this right now.” 

 

“You—you can't deal? What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

“It means that we haven’t even talked about Stanford and whether or not I’m going there!” She takes a deep breath, trying to calm down. “I have a case. I have to go. We can talk later.”

 

“A case! I thought we agreed, no more cases for you. It’s not safe.” His tone is low and dangerous. 

 

Anger bubbles up inside her. Her voice rises. “No, Dad, you’re making all these decisions for me without even asking me what I want! Investigating, Stanford, Harmony—”

 

Keith cuts her off, and he’s shouting now, too. “Harmony? What’s there to consult? It’s my relationship, Veronica!”

 

“Well, you have no problem sticking your nose into my relationship with Logan!”

 

She knows, somewhere, in the back of her mind, that she’s not really being logical, but it’s like the dam has broken and her pent-up feelings are all rushing out. 

 

“We’re not roommates, Veronica!” her Dad roars. “I’m the parent and you’re the child!”

 

“That might have worked when I was six, Dad, but I’m twenty now! I’m not a child anymore. You didn’t even have this many restrictions on me when I was in high school!”

 

“But—Logan—he’s just not good enough for you! There’s no future there!”

 

“I disagree.” Her voice is rough with emotion. “In fact, I want Logan in my future for a long time.”

 

“You’re too young to make those kind of choices, Veronica!”

 

“Just because you make terrible dating choices, doesn’t mean I will!”

 

Her dad has no response to that and she suspects that she went too far. The silence hangs heavy on the phone line and Veronica, her breath ragged with anger and adrenaline, is tempted to just hang up on him. 

 

“I’ve gotta go, Dad.” She manages to mutter. 

 

“Where are you, Veron—?” His yell is cut off as she ends the call.

 

She closes her eyes and takes deep breaths, shoving her phone into her pocket. Holding shaky hands to her face, she presses back against the car door and keeps herself still, focusing on her breathing, until the trembling stops. Maybe Tiffany will think she’s worried for Logan. 

 

Shit, Logan! He’s still in the bar and she has no idea what’s going on in there. Eyes still closed, she fumbles for the door latch, but before she can open it, his familiar hands circle her waist. Her eyes snap open to his smug expression, lit with glee. 

 

“So how’d I do, babe?”

 

Instead of answering, she wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him, urgent and deep. She’s so glad he’s okay, and still upset from her fight with her dad, her emotions carry her away, their surroundings fading into the background.

 

Logan, never one to back down from a kiss, picks her up and she wraps her legs around his waist. He meets her passion fervently, pressing her up against the car as his tongue sweeps into her mouth.

 

“Ouch!” Something tugs at Veronica’s hair and she breaks the kiss, turning to see the passenger window rolling down.

 

“Excuse me, I’m working here,” says Agent Sheridan, her tone dripping with derrison. “Save the PDA for later.” 

 

Looking contrite, Logan sets Veronica back on her feet and tugs at his shirt, turning to the agent. 

 

“Right. Sorry.” He nods quickly. “Let’s go back to my place and see what we got.”

 

Veronica opens her door and slides into the passenger seat, schooling her features as she gathers her emotions. 

 

“Are you okay?” Logan whispers to her. “You seem...off.”

 

She nods, gulping, but the way he eyes her makes her think he doesn’t believe her lie. 

 

Tiffany sounds insufferably smug. “I turned off Logan’s mic and camera but, uh, they probably captured that little show you put on back there.”

 

Veronica’s face heats up but Logan shrugs it off as he starts the car. 

 

“I’m sure you can edit that out. Was the confession enough?” Logan’s voice holds barely-concealed excitement, his fingers tapping against the steering wheel, like he’s feeling an adrenaline rush, too. “Did you get what you needed?”

 

“Yep, you did great. We’ll listen to it again at your place but I think we have enough for RICO to step in and raid the place.”

 

“RICO?” asks Logan. “What’s that?”

 

“Racketeer Influenced and Corrupt Organizations Act. It’s the branch of the FBI that investigates the Mob, basically,” Agent Sheridan explains.

 

Veronica frowns, a stab of jealousy hitting her sharp and deep. This is her case and now the FBI is just going to step in and take all the credit? It doesn’t seem fair. 

 

She heaves a sigh.  _ But this was what I wanted, right? Justice? So, why doesn’t it feel more satisfying? _

 

Concern filters across Logan’s features as he looks over at her. He grabs her hand, running his thumb along her knuckles. 

 

“What’s up?” He presses quietly. 

 

She just shakes her head. “Stuff with my dad.” 

 

Insecurity flashes in his eyes before he turns back to the road. 

 

——

 

“ _ I’m looking to buy a gun _ ,” Logan says on the video on Tiffany’s laptop. 

 

They’re holed up back in Logan’s office again, with Agent Sheridan seated at Logan’s desk and Veronica and Logan standing behind her, watching the footage over her shoulder. 

 

_ “This is a bar, son. We clearly don’t sell guns _ ,” Liam Fitzpatrick replies. “ _ You should try Cabela’s. You’re famous. It should be easy for a pretty boy like you to get whatever you want.” _

 

Even through the grainy footage, Veronica can see his cruel smirk. Logan holds it together admirably, though, and just continues, radiating calm. 

 

“ _ I have no qualms with the legal process for buying a gun _ ,” he explains, “ _ but there are downsides to fame. And this isn’t a purchase I want a record of, with the paparazzi and all _ .” 

 

“ _ I do believe the last time you were in here, you were already armed _ .” Liam’s mocking tone turns hard. “ _ You didn’t make a lot of friends on that visit.” _

 

The view shifts to show Logan leaning forward, tapping the bar with his fingertips, as he weighs his words. 

 

“ _ Would you believe that’s a common problem of mine?” _ He clears his throat. “ _ Are you familiar with the Sorokin family?” _

 

Liam’s face turns wary. “ _ Familiar enough to stay away from anything connected to them _ .” 

 

He actually takes a step back towards the wall behind the bar, putting additional space between himself and Logan. 

 

“ _ That’s wise. I’m not connected _ ,” Logan stresses the word, “ _ but I may have met some new friends that are. Hence the purchase _ .” 

 

He spreads his hands out in front of him expansively. 

 

_ “What happened to the gun you had before?”  _

 

Veronica can’t tell if Liam is just curious or if he’s going somewhere with this line of questioning. 

 

“ _ Sheriff Van Lowe confiscated it _ .” Logan makes it sound like he’s confiding a secret. 

 

Liam laughs. “ _ Maybe you’ll buy it back today. Sheriff Van Lowe is a close, personal friend of mine. You should think about making a donation to his favorite charity. It could go a long way, if you know what I mean _ .”

 

“ _ I think I do _ .”

 

Agent Sheridan pauses the video and Logan asks eagerly, “So is it enough?”

 

She spins in the chair to face them. “I think so. Obviously I have to take it to my superiors, but I think so.”

 

Logan seems so excited, he’s practically vibrating. He grabs Veronica and gives her a quick kiss on the lips. 

 

“We did it, babe!”

 

Tiffany narrows her eyes at them. “None of that, please, at least until I leave.” 

 

Veronica allows herself a possessive smirk. At least Logan’s predilection for PDA has shown Agent Tiffany where his loyalties lie. 

 

Tiffany spins back around to the desk, snaps her laptop shut decisively, and stands. She heads across the room but hesitates by the doorway, like something holds her back. Veronica raises a questioning brow in response.

 

“Logan…” Agent Sheridan begins, more unsure than Veronica has yet seen her. “That thing you said about the Sorokin crime family...was it true?”

 

Logan sobers and locks eyes with Veronica, keeping his arm around her shoulders and obviously weighing his words.

 

“I know a guy…” He starts, then clears his throat. “There’s a student at Hearst, Gory Sorokin. We maybe got on his bad side last year.” At Tiffany’s horrified look, he hurries to explain. “But it’s not a big deal. Nothing’s come of it. I just thought it might convince Liam. And it worked. So, yeah.” 

 

“Well, I don’t know anything about a Gory, but I do know that the Sorokin family in general is a big deal. Their bad side is a scary place. If it ever turns into something that you need help with, you have my number.”

 

Before Tiffany can say anything else, t here’s a sudden pounding on the front door and Logan looks to Veronica with a questioning frown. Leaving the office, he heads through the house. Curious, Veronica follows just behind. Before Logan can open the door, though, an angry voice sounds from the other side.

 

“Veronica! I know you’re in there! It’s time for a father-daughter chat.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to Heavenli24 and MarshmellowBobcat for their help with this one!


	16. Chapter 16

“I think I’ll just see myself out.” 

 

Veronica tears her eyes off her father to see Agent Sheridan standing behind them awkwardly. The woman moves forward and edges past Keith, who doesn’t even glance at her as she leaves. His eyes, full of contained fury, are glued to Veronica. 

 

Logan moves to stand behind her, hands resting supportively on her shoulders. 

 

“It’s time for a chat, Veronica.” Her dad’s words are harsh and clipped. 

 

It’s his ‘trying hard not to yell’ voice, but she’s not ready for this conversation, not ready for Harmony to be moving in with him, and not ready to face her dad’s obvious displeasure over her relationship with Logan. 

 

“What are you doing here?” she asks, before something occurs to her. “Wait, how did you even know where I was?” 

 

She gasps. “Are you tracking me?”

 

He opens his mouth to protest but his eyes slide to the left guiltily. 

 

“You are! Dad, I can’t believe—”

 

Logan cuts her off. “Mr. Mars, I think you should come have a seat in the living room.”

 

Keith glares at Logan, like it’s not his house he’s rudely invading, and stomps through the entryway into the living room. It’s dark outside now, though the window blinds are still open, allowing Veronica to watch her father’s reflection in the glass as he paces. 

 

She turns to Logan, urgent. “Do you mind giving us a minute? I think that might be best.” 

 

“I’m just gonna…” Logan gestures at his patio doors lets himself out onto his deck, hurt visible in his eyes. He’s promptly swallowed up into the darkness.

 

“Veronica, what are you doing? Working cases? Staying out all night? Sleeping who-knows-where? And what about Stanford? Have you called and made your arrangements for next semester yet?” His voice becomes more urgent with every query he poses and his overstepping sends a flare of irritation through her chest. 

 

“Dad, I’m—I’m living my life. My life—not yours!” She stands in front of him and clasps her hands together tightly to try to stop them from shaking. “Yeah, I’m working a case. I’m doing a damn good job, too. And you absolutely know where I’m sleeping when I’m not at home; you just don’t like it.”

 

Keith’s eyes flash but doesn’t deny the accusation. She doesn’t want to hurt him but she can’t keep her feelings inside any longer. 

 

“I love you, Dad, but I can’t stop being me anymore. I’ve tried. I love Logan and I love fighting for justice.” Her voice breaks with emotion as she sinks onto the couch. “I’m tired of being miserable.”

 

“Justice! Yes! You can totally fight for justice as a lawyer, Veronica, at Stanford.” 

 

His desperation shows on his face and he’s clearly grasping at straws. She notices that he ignores her statement about Logan but she just shakes her head. 

 

“I don’t want to be a lawyer, Dad. I wanna be in the fight, like you—it’s where I belong.” 

 

“But, honey, I want so much better for you than that.” His pleading eyes sends a pang of sadness through her. “You could have respect and safety and security. I thought Stanford was your dream.”

 

“No, Dad. It’s your dream. Maybe I did want that for a while, but I’m not that girl anymore. I’m not going to Stanford.” 

 

He sits down across from her on the other leg of the L-shaped sectional, at a loss. Her dad—so perceptive as a P.I. but he obviously missed this. Or did he only see what he wanted? He runs his hands over his head as he processes her words. 

 

“But what about—”

 

“I’ll figure it out, Dad,” she cuts him off, scooting over to sit by him and covering his hands with her own. “Like an adult.” 

 

She takes a deep breath, preparing to rip off the proverbial Band-Aid. 

 

“Look, it’s been just you and me for a long time,” she says, softening her tone. “And I know that’s not gonna change; we’ll always be there for each other. Which is good because I’ll probably make lots of mistakes and need your help. But I think it’s time for me to do a little more on my own.”

 

He looks at her, eyebrows raised in question. 

 

“Like, I think it’s time for me to move out.”

 

“On campus? You can’t afford the dorms. And it’s not likely you can even find a room at this point in the year.” 

 

He seems genuinely puzzled and Veronica grimaces. She’s dropped enough bombshells tonight; she really doesn’t want to do this right now. But as much as she'd rather lie or obfuscate the truth, it’s time to be honest. She takes a deep breath.

 

“A few months ago, Logan asked me to move in here with him.”

 

At that news, Keith’s confused expression hardens, his eyes narrowing and his jaw clenching. Veronica quickly continues before he can start yelling again. 

 

“I know in the past Logan’s had his…” she struggles for the right word, “issues. But, Dad, look around.” She stands and gestures around the living room, starting to pace. “He’s stayed out of trouble, done well in school, and handles way more adult responsibilities than I do.” 

 

Keith tries to protest, but she cuts him off, “I don’t understand your problem with him. In fact, I thought things were okay between you guys when we were all out in Virginia.” 

 

She attempts to keep her anger out of her voice but she’s not sure she’s successful. Her hands ball into fists and her fingernails dig into her palms. 

 

“Well, I’m not okay with you living here, Veronica! You’re too young to move in with your boyfriend!” He barks out, his voice rising with every word, and the telltale vein jumps in his forehead. “You have too much of a future to throw it away!”

 

She shakes her head at him, at a loss for words. This is so much harder than she expected.  She thinks of all the things he’s done for her and she can’t believe she’s making this choice. Her heart aches with it but he doesn’t understand her, doesn’t understand the person she is and wants to be. Tears fill her eyes.

 

“Daddy,” her voice falters and she sits back down on the couch, attempting to explain herself one more time. “I’m not throwing anything away. Being with Logan has nothing to do with my decision to stay here and pursue investigating. I tried dating the ‘right’ boy and I tried following the ‘right’ path to the FBI. I really did. But—”

 

“No. I don’t want to hear it.” He stands, striding across the room towards the door. Turning back to face her, he repeats, “I just—don’t throw your life away, Veronica.” 

 

With that, he turns and leaves the room, exiting the house and letting the front door slam behind him. 

 

Veronica’s tears spill over and flow unchecked down her face. She hates fighting with her dad and she never wants to disappoint him. After wallowing for a few minutes, she finally pushes herself up off the couch and grabs a Kleenex from the end table next to her. She wipes her face and blows her nose, tosses the tissue in the trash, and heads resolutely to the French patio doors. 

 

She lets herself out on the deck where Logan is pacing. He spins and leans against the wooden railing, inspecting her face. 

 

Reaching out, he strokes a gentle finger down her cheek. “Are you okay?”

 

Hoping the darkness will hide her red, puffy eyes, she nods. 

 

“So are you going to tell me what happened with your dad?” 

 

“Um. It’s kind of a long story.”  _ That you’re not going to like and I don’t want to tell you, _ she thinks, but doesn’t say. 

 

He pins her with his stare, and, squirming beneath his scrutiny, she sighs and gives in. 

 

“While you were getting the evidence against the Fitzpatricks—masterful job, I might add,” she tries to distract him by bringing that up but he refuses to take the bait so she plows on, “My dad called to tell me that he asked Harmony to move in with him. I...didn’t take this news too well. The conversation ended badly. He’s apparently tracked my phone or something.” 

 

She still doesn’t know how he did that and her fury begins to mount all over again. Her voice gets louder and her words are clipped. 

 

“Anyway, he tracked me here to yell about all kinds of things. Stanford. My major. Working cases. My living arrangements.” 

 

She waves her hands in the air to encompass Logan’s house and glances at him. His eyes are wide with astonishment. He stands up straighter, fingers gripping the railing behind him, his gaze locked on her. 

 

“Stanford? Your living arrangements? What are you talking about?”

 

Veronica drops her eyes to her shoes and twists her fingers together.  _ Shit _ . 

 

“Um. I guess I forgot to tell you. My dad had my acceptance to Stanford deferred last year. He wanted me to transfer there second semester.”

 

As betrayal fills Logan’s eyes, she rushes on. “But I’m not going to do that. It just, it took me a while to figure out how to tell him.”

 

“But you considered it? And you didn’t even tell me?”

 

“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t really consider it. I’m staying here.” She wants to reach out and touch him, grab his hand, but the hurt on his face holds her back. 

 

“Oh, great,” he mutters. “That makes it so much better. I just thought...you’re making major life decisions without even mentioning them to me. Before you say anything,” he holds up his hand to stop her protest, “yes, I know it’s your life. You don’t need to ask my permission or even my opinion. But is it really that hard to believe that your boyfriend wants to know what’s going on?” 

 

His question hangs in the air and Veronica doesn’t know what to say. Logan continues, his voice rising. 

 

“What else are you not telling me? Your living arrangements? What the hell is that about?”

 

She takes a deep breath. “I told him I’m moving in with you.”

 

She waits for his lopsided smile to curve across his face but...it doesn’t come. He just looks deflated. 

 

His voice is quiet when he finally speaks. 

 

“You’re welcome to the guest bedroom again. The one you stayed in this summer.”

 

Veronica’s face flushes and it’s not because of the temperature outside. Irritation flares in her chest, white hot and quick.

 

“Your roommate? Was that what you meant this summer when you asked me to move in with you?” She crosses her arms over her chest, trying to hold herself together. She lets herself meet his gaze and it’s full of anguish. 

 

“No, that’s not what I meant. I was putting it all out there for you, Veronica, and you said no. You weren’t ready. And I respected that, it’s a big step. Then suddenly when you can’t bear to live at home anymore and you have no place left to go, you announce you’re moving in.” 

 

Logan’s fingers fiddle with the cuffs of his sleeves as he pulls the material over his palms. He continues speaking. 

 

“I wanted you to move in with me because you were choosing me. Not because you didn’t have any other options and you want to piss off your dad.”

 

He swallows and looks away. 

 

“Well, I’ll always be here for you so of course you can stay, but…not in my bedroom. Not right now.”

 

He pushes away from the deck railing in one fluid motion and stalks to the patio door, not looking at her. 

 

“Wait, Logan!” His hand hesitates on the doorknob but he still doesn’t turn around. 

 

“It wasn’t like that. I did chose you. I am choosing you.” 

 

The words ‘I love you’ reverberate in her head but she doesn’t say them out loud. She’s too afraid that he’ll see it as a ploy. She wants that moment to be perfect and this...isn’t.

 

Logan sighs and runs a hand through his hair, still facing the door. 

 

“We can talk more about it in the morning. I need a break to think. I’m going to bed.”

 

She watches through the open windows as he moves through the glow of the house until he disappears down the hallway, hidden from her sight. 

 

For the second time that night, Veronica gives in to her sobs, arms wrapped around herself as she shakes silently.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for Heavenli24 and MarshmellowBobcat for all their help with this chapter!


	17. Chapter 17

After indulging in a good cry on the patio, Veronica lets herself back into the house, makes a sandwich, and settles onto Logan’s couch to watch TV, hoping he will reappear and they can talk. But he never does. She doubts Logan has locked the door to his bedroom but he has kept it closed all evening and that's bad enough. 

 

Now it’s after midnight and she’s pacing the floor in the blue guest bedroom, trying to decide what to do. Knock on his door? Spend the night at Mac’s? Numb her pain with the Ben and Jerry’s that she knows he keeps in the freezer for her?

 

Finally, she brushes her teeth, using the extra toiletries Logan keeps in the guest bathroom, and gives herself a pep talk. _ You can do this, Veronica. You’ve given him long enough to think. Go talk to him _ . She takes a deep breath, squares her shoulders, and knocks on his door. 

 

There’s no answer from within. Maybe he’s asleep. Or maybe he’s not ready to talk to her. 

 

She desperately wants to try the doorknob (and pick the lock, if needed—she’s scoped it out and it wouldn’t be a challenge) but she tries to respect his privacy. 

 

Trudging back to the blue room, Veronica steps out of her jeans and discards her bra, then throws back the covers on the queen bed and slides between the cool, blue sheets. The bed is comfortable, but with all the thoughts whirling through her head, she’s certain she won’t be able to fall asleep. 

 

Although this was technically “her” bedroom when she stayed with Logan at the end of the summer while recovering from her appendectomy, she’s not sure she’s actually spent the night in this bed before. Normally the peaceful decor in this simple room is soothing but tonight everything about it feels oppressive. Mostly because she’d rather be with Logan. Their conflict weighs heavily on her. 

 

She lies on her back, staring at the ceiling, and thinks back over both her fight with her dad and her disastrous conversation with Logan. She’s not sure where she went wrong, but she hates the feeling in her gut that’s telling her she’s partially to blame for what happened.

 

She rolls over and checks the time on her phone. 12:30am. Probably too late to call anyone but...they are college students, after all. She scrolls through her contacts, pressing send when she gets to Wallace’s name. 

 

After three rings, the phone clicks and then the sounds of Wallace’s favorite Norah Jones CD fill the background—his secret favorite study music—as he says, “Hey, V. What’s up?”

 

Veronica takes a deep breath. Even the sound of her familiar friend’s voice is comforting. “Hey, buddy, did I wake you?”

 

“Not even a little. The night is young and so am I. Haven’t seen you in a few days. You okay?”

 

“Yeah, thanks. I just…” She trails off. 

 

“Veronica? You there?” 

 

“I know your views on girl talk, but I…” She shrugs as if he can see her. 

 

He sighs audibly. “This might surprise you, but I can handle it. Having a girl as a best friend means sometimes things get...girly. It also means sometimes, you help me smooth-talk the ladies. Just so we’re clear, you owe me.”

 

She laughs at him and relaxes. Norah Jones goes silent in the background as he continues. “I’ve known you were a marshmallow since day one. I’m not going to revoke your badass card.”

 

“Thanks. I’d be happy to wingman for you anytime soon. I just, I’m worried I screwed up.” Veronica sighs. 

 

“With Logan? Or a case?” he asks, immediately zeroing in on the only two possibilities it could be. At least she picked the right person to call. 

 

“With Logan. I promised myself this time things would be different but…”

 

“Have you accused him of murder? Has he maimed anyone for you lately?”  He laughs, letting Veronica know he’s teasing.  _ Thank god he’s over the Piz incident from last spring _ . 

 

“No, but—”

 

“That’s progress for you both. How can I help?”

 

“I didn’t tell Logan about some important decisions that I was making, and then I decided to move in with him but I messed that conversation up, too.” She sighs, weaving the sheet between her fingers. “My dad’s mad at me. Logan’s mad at me. I don’t know what to do.”

 

“Well,” Wallace’s voice is tentative. “I’m not mad at you.”

 

“That is definitely a bright side. Why can’t everyone be more like you?”

 

“This kind of amazingness can’t be duplicated. Is your dad upset because you’re moving in with Logan?”

 

“Careful, your big head won’t fit in your dorm room if you keep that up.” She takes a deep breath. “Moving in with Logan is part of it. He wants me to go to Stanford and become a lawyer. Can you imagine?”

 

“Why do you think he wants that?” 

 

“Dad said he wants better for me. I think that’s his problem with Logan, too, but why can’t he see that Logan is what I want? And investigating—it’s just, I tried other things and this...this is me.”

 

“I dunno, V. It might just take time. Once your dad sees that you’re happy, I’m sure he’ll come around.”

 

“And what about Logan?”

 

“Well…” Wallace hesitates. 

 

“Lay it on me, Papa Bear. I can take it.”

 

Wallace clears his throat. “Does Logan know how you feel? Because I’ve seen the way he looks at you, and he’s all in. I mean, he asked you to move in with him months ago. But if he thinks you’re keeping your options open, considering moving to Stanford, stuff like that…” 

 

He trails off and Veronica uses the quiet to think about the implications of her compartmentalization. 

 

“Oh. Yeah. I guess—I didn’t think of it like that. Wallace—” Her voice breaks and she has to stop and clear her throat before she voices her fear. “What if he won’t listen to me? What if I can’t fix it?”

 

“Logan’s into big romantic gestures, right?”

 

“Uh…”

 

“I’m not saying rent a skywriter, but do something to get his attention, show him that you care. And then seize the moment and tell him how you feel.”

 

Even the thought makes her panic. “Ick. It’s just not my style.”

 

“I know. But Logan knows that, too, so even something small will be a big deal to him.”

 

Silence stretches over the line while Veronica mulls over his advice. Finally she sighs. 

 

“Thanks, buddy. The fact that you would brave girl talk for me, well, you’re a good friend.”

 

“Yes, I am.” His voice is practically bursting with smugness. “And, V? You know he’s crazy for you, right? It’s gonna be okay.”

 

“Goodnight, Wallace.”

 

“‘Night, girl.”

 

After she hangs up, she stares up at the ceiling again and brainstorms ways to get Logan’s attention. There’s nudity, obviously, but jumping right to sex seems to eliminate any opportunities for conversation. Usually not sharing her feelings is her end goal, but Wallace’s right, she needs to actually talk to Logan this time. 

 

Finally, an idea strikes and she rolls over, sets an early alarm on her cell phone, and drifts off to sleep. 

 

——

 

Veronica, dressed in her clothes from yesterday, carefully balances the breakfast tray and knocks on Logan’s door promptly at eight o’clock the next morning. She knows he didn’t sneak out early to go surfing because she’s been up since six. 

 

She glances down at the tray, laden with coffee mugs, orange juice, and two plates of bacon, eggs, and pancakes. She hopes this works. 

 

After a second knock, panic blooming in her chest, there are finally sounds of stirring behind the door. A few seconds later, Logan’s voice, sleepy and muffled, tells her to come in. 

 

She manages to open the door. Logan’s sitting up in bed, still rubbing his eyes. His hair is mused, sticking up on the left side and flattened on the right, and he’s shirtless. Her heart lurches and she gives him a tentative smile. 

 

“Hey. Good morning.”

 

“Hi there. Are you trying to butter me up with breakfast?” He raises an eyebrow at her but he seems more curious than upset. 

 

Her smile falters and she sets the tray down on his bed. “Yes. No. I mean, Wallace said to do something, like a gesture and I thought—”

 

“Veronica.” He closes the distance between them and grabs her wrist, halting her flight out the door. “This is nice of you. I haven’t had anyone bring me breakfast in bed in...well, a long time. Thank you.”

 

He lets go of her and looks down at his lap as she cautiously sinks onto his mattress. 

 

The silence stretches on and it dawns on her that she has to make the first move. Damn romantic gestures. 

 

She clears her throat. 

 

“Logan, I’m sorry.” His eyes fly to her face, wide with surprise. “I should have told you about the Stanford thing. I’m trying to be more...open...but I’m not always good at it.”

 

A small smile quirks up the corner of his mouth at her confession and it encourages her. 

 

“I also should have talked to you before I told my dad I was moving in with you. I just assumed the offer was still on the table—”

 

“Of course it was.” He grabs her hand and rubs his thumb over her knuckles in a familiar comforting gesture. “I reacted badly and I’m sorry, too.”

 

She scoots closer to him on the bed and gives him a quick kiss on the cheek. 

 

“What I really should have told you—what I’ve known for a while now is: Logan, I love you. I never even considered leaving Hearst and I want to move in with you. I told my dad all that last night, but I realized I didn’t do a very good job of telling you.”

 

He stares at her, open mouthed, for a second, and it’s not often that Logan Echolls is at a loss for words. His face lights up with joy and he kisses her, urgently and deep. His hands cup her face and the emotions that he pours into the kiss threaten to overwhelm her. She wonders how long it’s been since anyone has told Logan that they genuinely love him? Not her ‘yeah’ of agreement when he asks or Dick’s drunken ramblings of ‘I love you, man,’ but an actual statement of love. Three years? Four? She should have told him a long time ago. 

 

Finally, they pull apart to breathe. Logan huffs a laugh. 

 

“You told your dad all that?” He sounds incredulous. “No wonder he was upset.”

 

Veronica rests her forehead against his. “He’ll come around. I’m not worried.”

 

He laughs again, delighted, and gives her another kiss. He tugs at her shirt this time and the breakfast tray beside them wobbles. Veronica pulls back, smiling playfully, and hops up off the bed to put the food safely on the floor. Standing by the edge of his bed, she muses that it’s a good thing he has a California king or else they’d be swimming in spilled coffee right about now.

  
  


“You’re awfully overdressed.” He bobs his eyebrows. “I’m gonna fix that, though.”

 

Logan crawls across the bed to reach her, the sheet sliding away to reveal his snug boxers, and pulls her t-shirt up over her head. He can’t seem to wipe the goofy smile off his face and Veronica feels elated to be the one who put it there. With deft fingers, he unclasps her bra and tugs her jeans down her legs. She steps out of them and climbs onto the bed on her knees, meeting Logan in another kiss. Running her fingers along his biceps, she says a quick thank-you prayer for weightlifting class. Her breasts press against his chest and her nipples tighten, aching for his touch. Logan, ever perceptive, skims his thumbs across them and she sighs into his mouth. Moving his lips to her neck, he sucks on her pulse point until she gasps and his lips curve into a smile against her skin.

 

Gently lowering her onto the bed, he slides her underwear off her legs, grinning widely. He places a soft kiss on the underside of her knee and a shiver races through her body. He trails kisses up the inside of her leg and she’s absolutely dripping with excitement. He licks a slow stripe up her core with the flat of his tongue and she can’t help it, she lets out a deep moan of pleasure.

 

He continues to lick, long, torturous strokes with his tongue and her hands fist in the sheets as she moans and starts to unravel. He takes her hands and gently places them on his head, and, oh god, she grabs at his hair, wanting more...needing more. So close now. He licks and teases, knowing just what she likes, and that’s all it takes for her to come apart beneath him. He slows, his tongue gentle, as she rides the waves of pleasure that flow out from her center through her body. 

 

Once Veronica’s breathing calms, she crooks her finger at Logan, giggling slightly as he slides up her body. 

 

“God, you’re good at that.” 

 

She wraps her fingers around his jaw and kisses him, tasting herself on his tongue. His hard length presses against her hip through the cotton of his boxer briefs and she pushes gently on his shoulder, rolling him into his back. Scrambling across him, she roots in his bedside table until she finds a condom. 

 

“Take off your underwear. Now.” Her voice is rough but Logan complies quickly. 

 

“I like it when you’re bossy,” he whispers as she opens the condom and rolls it down his length, before sinking down on top of him. 

 

“I know.” 

 

Her sensitive nerve endings are on high alert, and she revels in the delicious fullness of him inside her, sending jolts of desire through her as she moves up above him. 

 

He’s staring up at her, reverent. “Say it again.”

 

“I love you.” She forces herself to keep her eyes open, locked on his. “I love you I love you I love you.” 

 

She continues to chant, her words jumbled together, as she moves faster, rocking against him, letting her pleasure build again. Logan’s thumbs brush across her nipples and she gasps, taking him even deeper.

 

“Oh, god.” Her vision starts to go white at the edges and when he leans up and takes one of her breasts in his mouth, that’s all it takes. The world explodes around her and it’s only sensation—her and Logan, their bodies joined, the incredible feelings that only he can bring out in her. She throws her head back, her muscles contracting around him, and his fingers press into her hips, almost too hard, as he thrusts inside her once, twice, before he stills

 

Veronica’s head tips forward, resting on Logan’s chest—all her muscles have turned to jelly—and he gently rolls her to the side and cuddles her close.

 

“I love you, too,” he whispers.

 

“I know.” She smiles into his chest where she’s pillowed. “You show me all the time. But it’s good to say it, too, isn’t it?”

 

“Yeah, it is.” He places a kiss on the top of her head. “Give me a few minutes and I’m gonna show you again.”

 

_ Who am I to argue with an offer like that? _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to Heavenli24 and MarshmellowBobcat for their help with this! Only one chapter to go :)


	18. Chapter 18

The next few weeks fly by for Veronica. She stays busy finishing her semester, cramming for finals, and spending her evenings with Logan, gradually moving a few boxes at a time from the Mars’ apartment into Logan’s beach house...her new home.

 

Earlier this morning, they collected three more boxes from the apartment—this time it was random items from the back of her closet—and even though it’s Saturday and her dad should have been home, there was no sign of him. The apartment was empty, not even Backup was there to greet them. Veronica left Keith a Post-It note—just like she left one each time she had stopped in—but communication between them had practically ground to a halt. For Logan’s sake, she’s been trying to shrug off the sadness this places on her heart, but she’s pretty sure he sees right through her. 

 

After making a second breakfast—the breakfast burritos they grabbed in the car seemed too long ago—Logan brings in the Neptune Register and sets it down on the counter bar overlooking the kitchen, hopping up next to Veronica on the tall chair. 

 

“You get the paper, Logan, really?” She scoffs around a mouthful of eggs. “What are you, like, eighty-five?”

 

He adopts a faux-affronted look. “I’m a homeowner now, Veronica, and I pay property taxes in Balboa County. It’s good to know what’s going on.”

 

At her continued judgmental stare, he shrugs, adding, “I like the crossword puzzle.” 

 

She laughs and feeds him a bite of bacon off his plate, before stealing the rest for herself. 

 

He opens the paper casually and points to the headline. “So, did you know anything about this?”

 

‘Sheriff Van Lowe Removed From Office After Sting,’ the large letters scream. 

 

Veronica grabs it off the counter greedily and takes a look at the picture of Vinnie, shamefaced and out of uniform, flanked by two federal agents outside his house. 

 

‘Local Bar Selling Confiscated Weapons,’ reads the smaller headline below the fold, complete with a picture of the River Stix. 

 

She scans both articles, tossing out details to Logan. “The FBI takes all the credit, of course...Sacks has been appointed interim Sheriff...a recall election to be held next month…”

 

Logan takes a bite of his pancakes and watches her, his eyes glinting with amusement. 

 

“Do you think your dad will run?” He asks after taking a sip of coffee. 

 

Her face falls at the mention of her father. 

 

“I don’t know.” She sets the newspaper back down next to her plate. “I think I ruined any chances of that for him after my stupid stunts last spring.”

 

Veronica stares down at the puddle of syrup on her plate and, using her fork, swirls a bite of pancake through it, watching the sticky liquid part, and then congeal back together. She sets it down without eating it. 

 

Logan rubs his thumb over her knuckles in the comforting gesture that’s become so familiar to her. When she meets his eyes, they are full of compassion. 

 

“Maybe he’s like you,” he offers. “Operates better outside the bounds of law and order.”

 

She smiles a little at that and eats her pancake. She likes the thought that maybe her desire to avoid the rules and regulations of traditional law enforcement is an admirable trait, and one that her dad possesses. Spearing a bite of scrambled eggs and eating with relish, she goes back to reading snippets of the paper out loud to Logan. 

 

“Liam was taken into custody...Vinnie cut a deal...looks like he only has community service and a fine. How’d he pull that off?”

 

“Must have had a better lawyer than Cliff,” Logan quips. 

 

Veronica rolls her eyes. “There’s no one finer.”

 

“No mention of a plucky blonde P.I.?” 

 

She skims the article and shakes her head no. 

 

“Does it bother you that the FBI took all the credit?”

 

“Nah, not anymore. Honestly, I was pissed at Agent Tiffany at first. But then I realized, I got what I wanted.” She swallows a sip of coffee. “I just like seeing some of the corruption cleaned up around here.” Pointing to the picture of Vinnie, she grins. “This is plenty satisfying.” 

 

Logan sets his coffee cup down decisively on the granite counter and stands up. “I’ve got something for you. I’ll be right back.”

 

She straightens, instantly interested. “Oooh, my favorite words!” She can’t keep the grin off her face as she watches him disappear down the hallway to his office—no, their—office. Though she’s still having a hard time thinking of the house as their own, Logan patiently corrects her every time she says something is ‘his.’ 

 

He returns and places a red bow—the peel-and-stick kind used for Christmas presents—on the counter next to her plate and stands expectantly in front of her. 

 

“A bow, Logan? You got me a bow?”

 

He rolls his eyes at her familiar shtick. 

 

She picks it up and sees it’s stuck not to a hotel room key card but a black business card. She swivels in her chair, swinging her legs over the side so that she can face him better. 

 

The business card is embossed with silver letters and advertises, ‘Veronica Mars, Private Investigator.’ The scrollwork design of the letters and heavy card-stock quality of the paper far surpass the card she printed off her computer to use to impress the FBI. 

 

“Logan…” She doesn’t know what to say but he rushes to explain. 

 

“I just, I've been looking for a new investment opportunity,” he says. “You’re good at this, Veronica, good enough to make a career out of it; you have been for a long time. I know you bought the surveillance equipment and a subscription to the PI database. If you ever want to make something more of it…” 

 

He trails off with a shrug of his shoulders. 

 

“Thanks.” She grabs his hand and stares at their entwined fingers. “I really miss working for my dad. But I’ll think about it, Logan.”

 

She tugs him over to stand between her legs, still swung over the side of the chair. It makes her the perfect height to place a gentle kiss on his lips. 

 

“That’s very sweet and thoughtful of you,” she says against his mouth. 

 

“Yes. I’m a great boyfriend.” His lips slide to her neck and she’s glad she decided to wear a v-neck t-shirt today, as it gives him more access to her collar bone. Not that she’d ever let him in on that, though. 

 

“Mmm. I think it works better when I tell people that, Sugarlips.”

 

“Oh, okay. You’re welcome to start doing so.”

 

Just as his hands slide up under the hem of her shirt to glide along her rib cage, there’s a knock at the door. 

 

Veronica sits back and groans while Logan surreptitiously adjusts his jeans. 

 

“I’ll get it.”

 

One of the things Veronica loves most about Logan’s house—their house, she corrects herself—is the open floor plan. The spacious, state-of-the-art kitchen is separated from the living room only by the counter bar area where she’s sitting, and the entryway is right off the living room. So all she has to do is lean back a bit in her chair to see her father at the door as Logan opens it. 

 

“Hi, Dad.”

 

Keith is wearing slacks and a windbreaker, clutching the Neptune Register and he looks—unsure of himself, she realizes. It’s not a look she’s used to seeing on his face. 

 

“Come in, Mr. Mars.” Logan opens the door wider and gestures to the living room. 

 

Veronica hops off the tall chair, but stands in front of it uncertainly.

 

Her dad stops in the middle of the living room and glances around, his eyes skittering over the space. Then he holds out the newspaper. 

 

“Have you seen this yet?”

 

She nods, wordlessly. 

 

Logan crosses the room to stand behind her, putting his hands protectively on her shoulders. 

 

“Do you want me to go?” He leans down to whisper in her ear. 

 

She shakes her head no, knowing he will if she asks, but that he’s got her back, even against her dad, if necessary. She swallows and hopes it isn’t. 

 

“So these articles don’t mention it...but there’s no way the FBI was looking into this on their own. Did you tip them off?”

 

Still not sure how he’s going to respond, Veronica nods. 

 

A smile spread across her dad’s face. “Good work, kiddo. I’m proud of you. And I’m sorry for...earlier.”

 

Veronica’s lip trembles. His praise loosens the knot that’s been lodged inside her chest since their fight. With a sob, she dashes to her dad in the middle of the room and throws her arms around him, burying her head in his familiarity. 

 

She stands there, clutching him while he strokes her hair until dimly, in the background, she hears Logan in the kitchen, opening cupboard doors and setting down a coffee mug on the granite countertop with a clink.

 

“Mr. Mars, can I interest you in some coffee?”

 

Her dad’s voice is scratchy and she can feel his words rumble through his chest as he says, “I’d love that. And, Logan, maybe you could call me Keith from now on.”

 

Veronica glances at Logan in time to see the ecstatic look that crosses his face. He quickly schools his features but based on her dad’s low chuckle, Keith saw it, too. She grabs his arm and tugs him over to the bar. 

 

“So, Pops. How’s tricks?”

 

Keith settles, obviously uncomfortable, on the bar stool by Veronica, while Logan sets the mug of coffee in front of him. 

 

“Cream? Sugar?” Logan offers, hand on the refrigerator door. But her dad shakes his head.

 

“Black is fine.” He takes a sip. “About Harmony—”

 

“Dad,” she cuts him off. “It’s none of my business. When I was in high school, you respected my feelings—maybe too much—about the people you dated, but if we’re both going to be adults about it, then you should date whoever you want.”

 

Keith’s eyes widen. 

 

“I’m sure this isn’t news to you,” she bites her lip, “but I maybe didn’t give Harmony much of a chance when I first met her. I’m gonna work on that.”

 

Her dad leans over and kisses the top of her head. 

 

“I’ve missed you, daughter dear.” He clears his throat. “Obviously that giving people a chance thing goes both ways.”

 

He holds out his hand to Logan across the counter. 

 

“I didn’t give you much of a fresh start, Logan, and didn’t treat either of you like adults. I’m sorry.”

 

Logan grasps her dad’s hand, shaking it, and Veronica is convinced that the look of surprise on his face is only exceeded by her own. 

  
  


——

 

Veronica and Logan are in the middle of decorating a Christmas tree in the living room when her cell phone rings. She doesn’t recognize the number, but it’s a local call so she answers it. 

 

At first there is only silence on the line but she can faintly hear breathing. Just as she’s about to push the red ‘end’ button, a voice girl’s softly asks, “Veronica?”

 

She recognizes the voice and takes a deep breath, not sure what’s coming next. 

 

“Jennifer?” she asks. 

 

“Yeah.” Jennifer is still quiet. “Um, I know things were...different...when you gave me your number but...actually both my dad and Declan said maybe I should talk to you.”

 

This is not what she expected. “Yeah. Yeah, that sounds good. Um, do you want to meet for coffee at Java the Hut?”

 

She can hear Jennifer take a deep breath. “Yeah. That’d be good. Winter break doesn’t start for a few more days so...after school tomorrow?”

 

“I’ll meet you there,” Veronica confirms. 

 

——

 

Veronica is already seated, claiming her favorite secluded corner booth and sipping a decadent hot chocolate—with extra whip cream and chocolate shavings, the perks of being a former barista—when Jennifer slides into the booth across from her. She drops her book bag on the seat next to her and gives Veronica a hard stare. 

 

Her straight brown hair is pulled into a low ponytail and with her sweater, skirt, and tan Ugg boots, she is the quintessential picture of a cute, carefree high school girl. But Veronica knows what it’s like to be the daughter of the ousted sheriff, noting the dark circles under Jennifer’s eyes and the defiant set of her jaw. Since Veronica’s the one who lied about who she was, it’s probably up to her to get the conversational ball rolling. 

 

“I’m glad you called me. I wanted to explain and...apologize.”

 

Jennifer raises an eyebrow, giving Veronica a curious look. 

 

“I shouldn’t have lied to you, even to protect you,” Veronica continues. “I know it’s a crappy feeling when the people who you think are your friends suddenly...aren’t anymore.”

 

At that, Jen huffs a sarcastic laugh. “Tell me about it.”

 

Veronica nods. “I could. I could tell you all about what it’s like when your dad gets fired and Neptune High turns on you.” 

 

She levels a look of her own at Jennifer and the other girl drops her eyes, staring intently at a scratch on the tabletop, tracing it idly with her index finger. 

 

“So you’re  _ that _ Veronica Mars, huh?” Her voice is quiet. 

 

“Yep.” She pops the ‘p’ on the end of the word, a habit of Logan’s that she finds exceedingly annoying. He must be rubbing off on her. “I could tell you all about that. And I will sometime if you think it would help you. But I’d rather tell you about what I learned on this case.”

 

Veronica swallows and Jennifer looks up at her, attention riveted. 

 

“I learned that your dad made some bad choices—that don’t define you—to protect you. And that even though your boyfriend didn’t notice you without some prompting the first time, he has a good heart and really cares about you. You saw that potential in him and I think it made him want to live up to your expectations. I bet he stopped getting into trouble while you were dating, right?”

 

Jennifer nods, her face etched with misery. 

 

“Did you break up with him?”

 

“Yeah.” She starts running her hand through her ponytail, smoothing her hair. “I told him I needed a little break to figure things out.”

 

“That was probably wise. Although just so you know, I don’t think he ever lied about his feelings for you.”

 

Jennifer sits in silence for a moment, processing Veronica’s words and staring at her lap. 

 

Finally she looks up. “What would you do in my situation?”

 

Veronica huffs a laugh. “Probably something terrible. Burn my life down; something I’d really regret later and spend years trying to fix.”

 

At Jennifer’s wide eyes and agape mouth, Veronica elaborates, “I, um, didn’t always make the best choices for a while there.” 

 

She internally rolls at her eyes at the thought of her trying to give anyone advice. The irony isn’t lost on her. 

 

“So maybe ... don’t do that.”

 

“Yeah, um, okay.” After a beat, Jennifer continues. “Thanks, Veronica. This was...helpful.” 

 

She starts to slide out of the booth but Veronica stops her. 

 

“Wait.” She swallows as Jen turns back to her. 

 

“I do know what’s it like, and I think if we had been in school together, we could have been friends. So feel free to call anytime.” She smiles. “Logan gives way better advice than I do, too. So, there’s that. You could come over and...well, just let me know if you need anything.”

 

“I’ll remember that.” A genuine smile graces Jennifer’s face as she stands up. “Thanks.”

 

After watching Jennifer walk away, Veronica slides her phone out of her bag on the bench next to her and dials Logan’s number. 

 

“So, how did it go? Did she instruct you to wear pink on Wednesdays?”

 

“Aw, honey, you know us true mean girls wear black every day of the week. And butch boots. It’s our signature,” she banters back. “No, it went fine.”

 

The silence grows between them as she fiddles with her coffee cup but it’s not uncomfortable. Veronica isn’t ready to admit that she called him mostly because she can and she likes hearing his voice in her ear. He probably knows it anyway.

 

“Veronica. I—I’m proud of you.”

 

Logan’s words warm her with satisfaction and it’s a good feeling, doing something that she can be proud of again, making Logan proud. She wants to keep doing it. 

 

“Hey, Logan? Thanks. For everything. I’ll see you at home.” 

 

Home. She doesn’t even stumble a bit on the word. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many, many thanks to Heavenli24 and MarshmellowBobcat. Without them, this story would still be a giant mess!
> 
> I can't believe it's done! Thanks so much to those of you who read faithfully and left me such encouraging comments along the way. I never thought it could write a multichapter fic but it's been an awesome experience! The VM fandom is truly the best :) You guys rock!

**Author's Note:**

> Many, many thanks to Heavenli24 for her amazing beta skills and to CMackenzie for holding my hand and helping me plot this fic!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [(Covers) See Appendix for Further Information & A Reflection of Choice by CubbieGirl1723](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17439368) by [AlinaSorokina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlinaSorokina/pseuds/AlinaSorokina)




End file.
